But Not Forgotten
by jjbird
Summary: Completed. Jack and Sam deserve some happiness, but things are never easy for them. Set mid-S4 onwards, AU.
1. Endings

**But Not Forgotten**

**By jjbird**

**Disclaimer:** Of course these aren't my characters, as much as I'd like them to be. They are owned by some other very clever people.

**A/N: **This is pretty much set in Season Four, before 'Freefall', and then it goes into my own cosy AU. I wrote the first two sections way back when I was struggling with _Another Life,_ quite some time ago, a story blast I called it, unknowing what was to happen to poor Jack... So, huge thanks to Mariel, my beta, for her friendly kicks in the butt; and thanks to Inken, Trish and Diane, for their initial thoughts as well. And to all at Maple Street, best damn site ever!

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Chapter 1.

_Endings._

What can you say?

Mere words are not adequate.

What can you do?

Just be there for them, hoping your proximity will help.

Jack had already had an apprenticeship in this awful business; he'd never thought he'd have to go through it again so soon.

He squeezed his daughters' shoulders reassuringly as they all got into the taxi.

As for words, God knows he'd delivered enough bad news to families before. He sometimes felt he'd written the book.

But this –this was different.

This was family.

This was Maria.

Xx—

He'd nodded at the doctor numbly, barely processing the words. He'd thanked her, in a daze, for doing her best.

He'd been too late; by the time he was halfway in the air to Chicago, Maria had flat lined. He'd never felt so far away from his girls as he had then, sitting in a taxi on the way to the hospital, after receiving the ghastly update.

Once there, Jack had found his girls huddling against a woman he met only once before, a teacher who had looked after them when the news came through, via Maria's office, of all things.

He could just hold them tightly; always wanting them to be with him, but not at this terrible price.

Wishing your wife was dead in the aftermath of a divorce was one thing; having it actually happen was another.

He remembered the last time he'd seen her: having the last word over weekend swapping as she followed him out to his waiting cab.

"You've no choice in this Jack. I want them for that weekend; it's important to me."

"For Christ's sake, it's _my_ weekend; I've already made plans with them. You know I have to map my schedule out weeks in advance," Jack had thrown at her, getting in the cab.

"Bullshit! You've never worked to a schedule in your goddamned life!" she'd spat at the closing door.

He'd fumed and fumed on the way to O'Hare. _Damn, she was a frosty bitch…_

Knowing she'd nag until she got her own way, he had phoned before the flight and left a message on the answering machine, saying she could have it her way and have that particular weekend.

And that was it.

Then the awful phone call, three days later.

Her car, her cell phone, an unexpected pedestrian, a truck.

Too late.

The phone call came just before questioning a suspect. He'd dropped everything; raced to LaGuardia and wrangled a seat on the next flight.

Too damn late.

Xx—

Olczyk assembled the team, his face solemn. "I just heard from Jack. He wanted me to tell you… Maria died on the operating table a short time ago." He looked at their faces as they digested the news. He wasn't pausing for dramatic effect; he just didn't know what to say about the Supervisory Special Agent's ex-wife. "He'll be taking a leave of absence while he gets things sorted out. Vivian, you'll take charge of the unit for now."

"How long will he be away?" Martin asked.

Olczyk shrugged. "I suggested a month. He's got his daughters to worry about: he's got to move them back to New York; get them settled again."

"Any ideas on when the funeral might be?" This time it was Danny.

"Can't say. It wasn't a long call." He looked pointedly at Vivian. "Maybe you should keep in contact with him for now."

Vivian nodded. Always a woman's job at a time like this. "I'll do that."

"Thanks," Olczyk said gratefully, before leaving.

The team were still standing in the bullpen, each lost in their thoughts. The team was smaller again; Elena had finally got her first choice and left a short time before.

Samantha felt she needed to be elsewhere.

Anywhere, not here.

She picked up her handbag. "Viv, if I'm not needed…? I've got some things to do," she said, trying to keep her voice normal, in spite of the lump in her throat.

Vivian nodded, knowing pretty much what was going through Samantha's mind right then.

"When will you call Jack?" Danny asked as he turned to Vivian, ignoring Martin watching Samantha's exit.

"I'll call tomorrow. Tonight he needs to be with his girls."

Xx—

Samantha set out from Federal Plaza like a woman possessed. When she hit Broadway, she suddenly realized she was going in the wrong direction of wherever she wanted to be. She stopped, saw a café and went in. Shakily ordering a cup of coffee that she didn't need, she sat at the furthest table from the door, her back to the other customers.

_Jesus Christ…_

What the hell was wrong with her?

She covered her face with her hands. She was upset -was it for Jack?... His daughters?... Or -God help her- for Maria?

How she'd hated that woman, for one reason or another.

Now, Samantha just hated herself.

She knew one thing for sure: Jack Malone was now untouchable.

Forever.

Xx—

It had been a coincidence that had required Samantha to be busy on the day of Maria's funeral, and it solved her problem. Vivian went, because she knew Maria well enough and because of her years of working with Jack; Danny, because of his friendship with Jack; Martin, because it was the right thing to do for your boss. But Samantha, who had been internally debating about going or not, had been needed to go to the NYPD about a case. The rest of the team understood, and it was silently agreed between them that it was probably for the best.

Part of Samantha wanted to be there for Jack, but a larger part felt it just wasn't the right thing to do. It wasn't avoidance; it was just not being there.

Jack would understand.

He probably wouldn't even notice.

Xx--

"Hey Jack."

"Hi," Jack replied.

"I was just... you know, wondering how you were," Samantha said awkwardly.

There was a pause that went on too long. She knew Jack was still on the line.

"Jack?"

"Yeah... yeah, I'm here."

Another pause.

_Okay._

"Sorry, I shouldn't have called... I'll catch you later," and she hung up before he could attempt a reply.

Sitting in the armchair, Jack had been staring out the window when his cell phone rang. Now, he stared at the phone in his hand.

What does one say to a former lover when your ex-wife dies?

What do they say to you?

He closed the phone and pressed it against his forehead as he squeezed his eyes shut.

He had noticed her absence at the funeral. It was obvious, but he knew she wouldn't have wanted to come –even if she hadn't been needed at NYPD. Vivian had filled him in.

Where was the book of instructions that could help him in all this? It wasn't like he could turn to his father for help, and Maria's parents had been too distressed for anything. They were too shocked to help with the funeral or with taking Maria's body back to New York. They certainly didn't know how to deal with their former son-in-law, having had Maria's sole version of events.

He was on his own for this one. From the minute he had reached the hospital.

Here he was, not even technically a widower, just a dead woman's ex-husband. That had been fun, trying to explain it to the elderly priest, who couldn't quite comprehend, in an old-fashioned way, why Jack was organising everything for his ex-wife. He had almost smiled at the priest's words: _Surely, there's someone else who would be… more comfortable doing this? _

Jack had decided not to deliver a eulogy. It would have been false, certainly coming from his mouth. Even if he had tried, speaking about the good times and memories, everyone would have seen through him. One of the senior partners he'd known from Maria's New York firm had given one, and had done a good job.

Some partners from her Chicago law firm had flown out. He had no idea who they were, and frankly, didn't care. That asshole Scoggins had turned up and Jack ignored the hand he'd held out to shake. Staring at the audacity of the man, Jack wondered, not for the first time, if Scoggins had slept with Maria. And as Jack turned around, guiding his daughters elsewhere, he found it didn't matter, anyway.

He'd prove him wrong.

He'd prove Maria wrong.

He'd manage looking after his daughters.

From somewhere in the apartment, Hanna's voice called out for him. He put the phone down and got up.

Xx—

TBC


	2. Bits and Pieces

**A/N: **Thanks to Mariel for her patience and help for thischapter as I seem to be working though some personal issues that unexpectantly came out of the subject matter. But it's all forgood, really... I was going to post later this week, but something in my head said to do it on Anthony LaPaglia's birthday, so, why not?... Thanks to all who took the time to review the first chapter, it's really appreciated!

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**Chapter Two**

**Bits and Pieces**

The mountain of boxes was still stacked against a wall in the living room. Jack, Hanna and Kate looked at them with some apprehension. Something needed to be done. They'd all been avoiding the boxes for over a week ago now. Jack was frankly tired of them; they couldn't be ignored forever.

"These have been here long enough. If you want, I can sort through them-" Jack began, rubbing his chin.

"No," Hanna said forcibly. "I don't want to throw anything out."

"Are you sure? There are a lot of clothes and there are a number of charities that could make good use of them," Jack pointed out.

"They're not just any old clothes; they're Mom's," Hanna responded, folding her arms against her chest.

"Yeah," agreed Kate. "Mommy's."

Jack shook his head. "I just don't know where we're going to put them all." Their storage space was already full up, and there was more to come.

Hanna was determined. "We'll find room, and Grandma and Grandpa said they'd look after anything that we couldn't store."

Jack looked sideways at his eldest daughter, noticing the familiar stubbornness that she got from both sides of the family. They must have been talking about it at the funeral. His parents-in-law would do anything their granddaughters asked them to. They may even have suggested it to the girls themselves.

There were a couple of boxes with Maria's personal belongings that he'd despondently packed himself. He pointed them out. "Those two can definitely stay, but we don't have space for all the others, no matter what you think. Hanna, call your grandparents and ask them to help out with the rest of the boxes. You're both back at school next week so I want them cleared, okay? I have some work to do." He left them to it, realizing later that he had almost been issuing orders like he did at work.

Jack sighed. He had to go through Maria's accounts and credit cards before going to the bank the next morning, armed with the death certificate.

The little things that remain after someone dies and need to be taken care of; it was no walk in the park.

Xx--

On their last weekend before going back to school, Hanna and Kate decided they wanted to hang their hand-crafted mobiles from the ceiling. Feeling the weight of the constructed pieces, Jack decided a simple tack wouldn't cut it, and went to find some hooks.

He went to the drawer in the kitchen; the one with all the odd bits and pieces that always ended up being kept somewhere, rather than thrown away. He knew he had some hooks somewhere, but where exactly... It wasn't the first time Jack cursed that he didn't have a decent set of tools or a toolbox. Not that he'd know how to use them, precisely, but he wasn't completely useless as a handyman. It was just that he had never been home enough to find time to do things. Disassembling and cleaning a gun, that was easy; he'd learnt that early on from his father. Car engines -he'd learnt some of that in the military. But day-to-day fixing was not his best or favorite activity.

Shifting an old roll of duct tape to find another hook, his eyes alighted on something.

A key.

There were other keys in there, but this one had a small dot of liquid paper on it. Jack picked it up. The once white dot was discolored and slightly chipped, as was the dot on the other side. Once upon a time the dots had made for easy identification amongst his other keys.

He thought he'd given it back.

The key to Samantha's apartment.

_How the hell…? _He stood there, trying to remember how, when and why on earth he still had it.

He considered throwing it out. But that wouldn't be the right thing to do.

Then, the next question was, how was he going to return it and worse –should he even do it? He could just leave it where he found it. And always know it was there.

Surely, she must have figured out that he still had it. If she did, she'd probably think he was keeping it for old times' sake.

All this bother for an old key.

He clutched it tightly in his hand, and continued his rifling through the drawer. He located another small hook and, after glancing once more at the key, he pocketed it.

He'd worry about it later.

Xx—

Early Monday morning and Jack escorted his daughters to their school. He'd arranged for some of their old friends to meet up to make the transition easier. Hanna wasn't too bothered, but Kate was anxious and a little clingy. Taking them to school had been more of Maria's job, as was picking them up; that had been pointed out to him quite nicely during the deposition. He'd made arrangements as he couldn't pick them up everyday when he returned to work.

"I don't want to go back to school. I want to stay home with you," Hanna said, her jaw set, eyes practically pleading at she looked up at Jack, herhand tightly grasping his.

He was surprised at the admission; it was more the sort of thing he'd expect Kate to say. "There's not a lot of choice in the matter I'm afraid, and look, your friends are here." Isabelle and Bella were standing to one side, a look of curiosity on their faces; almost pity on their mothers'. The girls hadn't wanted to see any of their old friends, preferring each other's company in the past weeks. But now Kate was edging slowly away from Jack and towards a girl that Jack recognized as being the daughter of a lawyer at Maria's old firm.

A teacher came to take all the girls off to their various classes. Jack kissed them both and waved as his daughters went down the hallway. Then he found himself with the mothers, and was already planning his escape; he knew what any conversation was going to be about.

"Oh, you poor thing. How's it going for you? Are you managing?" asked Bella's mother, a look of genuine concern on her face.

"I'm managing very well, thank you," Jack politely replied, being reminded of the platitudes from the funeral.

"It must be very difficult for you. It's hard for a man to raise two girls by himself," said Isabelle's mother.

Bella's mother nodded her head in agreement. "It must have been a tough few weeks.'

Jack shrugged; he had enjoyed his time with them, all things considered.

"Lovely lady, your wife," Bella's mother said.

_Ex-wife… _Jack found he was clenching his jaw.

"It must have been hard for her to take that job in Chicago…"

He clenched it again. _It hadn't been hard for her at all._

He'd had enough; they'd be offering to bring over meals next. "I'm sorry, ladies, I really must go," Jack said, backing away hastily and mentally vowing to never allow himself to be trapped by any of the women around there again.

Isabelle's mother and Bella's mother watched him go.

"He's taking it very well, don't you think?" one said to the other.

Xx—

That night, after tucking the girls in their beds, Jack found himself staring at a full bottle of whisky on the kitchen counter. He dearly wanted to lose himself in the flavor, feel the warmth slide down his throat, but he'd made a pact with himself not to.

But drinking himself into a stupor would be too easy. The girls needed him, and he needed to be there for them. Drinking by himself was no longer an option.

But tonight was tempting. He stared at the rings in his hand; Maria's engagement ring and wedding band. Eighteen karat gold and diamonds, warm to touch.

He placed them on the counter, and stared at them again, memories washing over him.

God, he'd been so much in love. He'd hardly known what had hit him.

Until he'd met Samantha, all those years later, and fallen in love again, deeply and irretrievably. A symptom of a slowly failing marriage, he supposed.

And now that was in the past, and he scarcely knew that man anymore.

He'd opened Maria's jewelry box, and going through it, had remembered the various pieces he'd given to her. He also recognized the guilt pieces; the ones given for not being there, emotionally, or physically. He'd never gone overboard, just bought seemingly thoughtful things, given from time to time. But there had always been a reason. Remembering that only added to his total feeling of hopelessness.

What if he hadn't been so consumed with his work? What if he had not let it get to him, and had halted that downward spiral that had ultimately destroyed his marriage and his life as he'd then known it? Maybe if he had been stronger, less selfish as a man, then maybe Maria would still be alive. One way or another.

That bottle was looking more and more appealing; something to exorcize his demons.

But he was resolved, and he put the bottle in a cupboard.

Picking the rings up, he returned them to the jewelry box. Then he put the box high up in the wardrobe, planning to give the jewelry to the girls when they were older and more responsible. They could sort it all out then.

Xx—

Samantha stared at the empty bottle.

It must have evaporated. There was no other explanation.

She couldn't have drunk that bottle of red all by herself.

But the nearly empty wine glass in her hand told a different story

It had taken her some time, and she had to admit she was quite impressed with herself. She slowly made her way to the bathroom to look at her tongue in the mirror. She almost laughed out loud; enjoying the dark color her tongue had been stained.

Another evening alone.

Fine.

Why the hell not?

She deserved it and it served her right.

She didn't want to look at her reflection too closely. Thoughts were beginning to surface again.

_If I hadn't slept with Jack then Maria wouldn't have left him then she wouldn't have had the car crash in Chicago and Jack wouldn't have his daughters with him then…maybe I shouldn't have told Maria I was sorry as it didn't help matters or anything…if I hadn't fallen in love with Jack… if I didn't love him still…_

She blinked at her mirror image.

For such a small word, 'if' carried a lot of consequences.

Some things were best left locked away, even from oneself.

She rubbed her temple as the thoughts muddled, her train of thought derailing.

He'd be back next week. Just having his solid presence around counted for a lot more than she'd ever realized.

Maria alive and Jack by himself, but miserable without his daughters; Maria dead and Jack with his daughters, which should make him happy, but made him further apart from her than ever; off limits and out of bounds. The past and the present were colliding. Like the headache that Samantha was going to have if she didn't drink a lot of water and take something for it.

She decided to get ready for bed, and was determined to scrub that stain off her tongue, with a full tube of toothpaste, if necessary.

Xx--

Dr. Lisa Harris looked up, surprised at her early morning visitor. "That's odd Jack, I thought you weren't coming back until next week."

"Do I look like I'm dressed for work?" he asked, sitting himself down in a chair.

She smiled. "I admit the casual look should have been a give-away, but I never can tell with you guys. It's good to see you again. How are the girls?"

"As well as can be expected," Jack replied. The question was beginning to be a common one asked, as was his answer. "They're fitting back into school. A lot of their old friends are still there, which is good." _And their mothers, God help me…_

"How about you?"

"What about me?" he answered, crossing his legs.

"How are you handling things? It must be a… difficult situation for you."

"I guess I'm dealing with it. It's a strange state of affairs to be in."

"Do you wish Maria was still alive?" she asked bluntly; it was Jack Malone, after all.

He blinked at the broadside. "What the hell kind of a question is that? Of course I do."

"But you wouldn't have your girls."

"As much as I hated what Maria put me through, I didn't exactly want it to happen, did I?"

Lisa sat back in her chair, nodding at the answer. "So if everything's hunky dory, why are you here?"

"I figured I'd be sent here when I returned next week, and I thought I'd just get it-"

"Over and done with, right, I get you... Look Jack, we've never had problems communicating in the past. You know you can talk to me."

"I appreciate that."

"You've seen the team?"

"No, I came straight here."

"They contacted you?"

"They were at the funeral; Viv's called me a few times," he said, omitting to mention Samantha's short phone call.

"Samantha wasn't," she stated.

"Correct." _She's done her homework_.

"How did you feel about that?"

Jack shrugged. "I don't have a problem with it at all. She needed to be at NYPD."

"Admit it; it would have been weird for her to be there."

"Maybe. But it's a moot point, and Martin kind of represented her anyway. Move on." He was resisting the urge to drum his fingers impatiently on his thigh.

Lisa hid her surprise, knowing about the break-up. She also knew it wasn't her call to set him straight on the matter. He'd have to work that one out himself.

"You've organized help at home?"

"Yes, one of our neighbors' daughters, Stevie. She's helping out with the girls after school and odd hours when I'm not there."

"She qualified?"

"She wants to learn nannying and go traveling. This is a start, and the girls know her from before and they're all getting along really well. When she was younger she used to come over and hang around. She's doing a first aid course."

"Sounds young."

"Almost twenty, but she's a good kid."

"And has Fleetwood Mac fans for parents."

"Now why would you think that?" He smiled as he stood up. "I've got to go. I have to fly to Chicago and sign off on the sale of the house; organize the movers for the rest of the stuff."

"Busy time for you."

"Has to be done."

"Take care, Jack. Anytime you feel you need to talk..."

"Thanks, Lisa."

Thinking he had gotten off lightly, Jack went to the lift. He pondered if he should see the team. Checking his watch he decided to flag it. He'd see them next week.

Xx—

Jack woke immediately he felt the tapping on his shoulder. "Wha…?" He tried to focus in the dark.

"Daddy…" It was Kate.

He reached out a hand to her. "What's up, sweetie? You okay?"

Instead of replying, she climbed into the bed with him, bringing a favorite teddy bear with her. "I want to be here with you," she said in a small voice.

She'd been crying and Jack gathered her into his arms. "What's wrong? Tell me." She'd had trouble sleeping, although it was getting better, until now.

She buried her face against his chest. "Why did she leave us?"

"She didn't want to, honey. It wasn't her choice," he replied, stroking her hair, trying to soothe her.

"But it's not fair…" She began crying again.

Jack wanted to say: Yes, it is unfair, it was unfair and life is unfair, and that's what we get, and there's nothing we can do about it. But he didn't. He couldn't.

"I miss her so much." She moved her head to look up at him. "You miss her, don't you Daddy?"

"Yes, of course, sweetie," said Jack softly, giving the only possible answer to his youngest daughter. "It's all right; you can stay with me tonight, okay?"

She nodded, and continued her quiet weeping into his t-shirt. He continued stroking her hair, calming her, until she went to sleep. Only then did Jack let himself drift off.

tbc

Xx--


	3. Going Through the Motions

**A/N: **To avoid more Canadian threats, I'm posting this now. Remember, this is my little AU; S4 rules do not apply... Thanks for all the reviews, always appreciated... Big thanks to Mariel, who really is a star!

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**Chapter Three**

**Going Through the Motions**

Xx--

Jack's first day back in the office was greeted with smiles and a genuine sense of relief by his team. Not that they felt exactly like a rudderless ship, but Jack was the heart of the unit, whether it was readily admitted or not. Most of the condolences and sentiments had been given by his team at the funeral, but there were still a number of agents around the floor who felt they should say something, anything. It was awhile before Jack was free for his own work. A case was wrapping up and Jack, not being needed by his own unit, had to jump head first into the pile of paperwork cluttering his desk; he would catch up with Vivian later.

The girls had given him a framed family photo for his desk and he felt he had to put it out –not that he had much choice in the matter anyway. The photo of the four of them had been taken quite some time ago. It was a happy one. A small Kate was on Jack's shoulders and Maria was holding Hanna. Everyone was laughing. He was wondering where to put it. He had various pictures of the girls on or behind his desk, and one of himself with them; the same one Maria kept by the computer at home when they were separated. But any pictures of Maria had disappeared from his desk long, long ago, and he'd never replaced them.

He sat down in his chair and put the photo in front of him. Then he moved it to one side, then the other. Maria's eyes seemed to follow him no matter where it was positioned. If it was facing him, he'd have to endure that look. He decided to put the photo behind him, across from his computer. At least he could work at his desk without looking at it directly.

That over and done with, he turned his attention to the papers and files and taking his pen out, he began to work.

He emerged around noon, and walked over to the bullpen, finding only Vivian there.

"Busy day after all," he remarked. "Where is everyone?"

"The guys are tidying up some loose ends. Samantha and I are writing our reports." Jack looked towards Samantha's empty desk and raised an eyebrow. Vivian tipped her head in the direction of the balcony. Jack could make her out, sitting on a chair. "Catching some sun while she writes it. She'd probably welcome a break, I think."

"Maybe. Thanks, Viv."

Xx—

"How's the report coming?"

Samantha looked up, surprised at seeing Jack coming toward her, and a smile quickly appeared on her face that was as bright as the sunlight she was basking in. This was the first time she'd been alone with him in weeks.

"Hello, stranger."

"Hello, yourself. Novel way to do reports," he said as he stood beside her, leaning against the glass. His black suit started to warm in the sun.

"It's not against the rules," she stated, but in a light tone.

"Like I'd come out here and tell you otherwise? It's a good idea, actually."

"How's it all… you know, going?"

"Okay. As well as can be expected, whatever that is."

"Olczyk sent you to Dr. Harris yet?"

"I beat him to the punch; came in last week."

"Last week…" she said, trying not to show her disappointment at not seeing him.

"Thanks for the phone call, by the way," he said quietly. He knew she was still with Martin, and maybe he hadn't wanted her to phone him; she had, and that was the point.

"Such that it was. It was the least I could do." She wanted to ask him how he was –really. But he'd never say. The time for those conversations was well past. However, it was very hard to stop caring for this man after all this time, no matter how hard she tried.

"I wasn't exactly in the mood, but I appreciate the gesture."

"How are the girls?" she asked, looking for another topic.

He shrugged. "Fine, I guess. It'll take time… Maybe a long time. I can only do my best for them."

She nodded, and thought she'd test the waters. "How about you?"

Jack managed a small smile. _There's that question again._ "I guess I'm fine, too."

"You're sure about that?"

"Pretty much," he said, preferring to close that line of questioning. "To tell the truth, I'm glad to be back."

Samantha smiled. _I'm very glad you're back_. There was a pause between them. Jack didn't seem to notice, so Samantha stood up. "I'm done here. Are you coming in?"

"Perhaps," he said, enjoying the warmth. "You hanging around for lunch?"

"I have some errands to run."

"I'm warning you now, there's a ton of filing to do this afternoon," he threw at her retreating back.

She turned and waved her report at him. "Which is probably why the guys are taking their time."

He smiled at that, and allowed himself a small wistful look at her -almost out of habit- as she left.

Returning to the bullpen, Samantha looked up from her desk and watched him a moment, now leaning against the railing, looking out across the city. She wondered what he was thinking.

Well, he seemed normal enough. She was definitely pleased he was back; things had somehow seemed a little empty.

"How was he?" asked Vivian.

"Fine," replied Samantha. "Same old, same old, I suppose."

"Whatever that is," Vivian said, returning her attention back to her report.

Samantha nodded.

With Jack, you never knew.

Xx—

The first case, after Jack's return, involved a roadie for a band who had gone missing soon after a gig at an underground club.

"Sounds interesting," said Danny, staring at the heavily pierced young man's photo while they sat around the bullpen table. Like the old days.

Jack fell easily back into his usual role. "You go with Martin to check out the club. Sam and Viv, cover the family. I'll do the background checks as there are still some things I need to do."

They set about their various tasks, like the smooth running unit they always were.

Xx—

A few days later, Jack received a phone call from Maria's mother. He was in the middle of a credit card check for a new case involving a laboratory assistant. The young roadie had been found in a flea pit hotel so drugged up they didn't know if he'd make it. But it was another case solved.

It never stopped. Missing people and in-laws; one was his chosen job, the other an affliction.

"Joyce, I assure you, the girls are fine. You can come and see them this weekend, whenever you like… No, I'm not stopping you and Mick -why would you think that?" Jesus, she was overly sensitive, his ex-mother-in-law -or was it former mother-in-law? He still needed that book that no-one had written for these occasions, something about out of the ordinary etiquette.

It was distracting him from his work, but he knew better than to fight with her, an older version of her daughter, but without Maria's lawyer's mind. She would probably start crying. Most likely have a go at him. He'd been waiting for it.

_Don't mind me_, he felt like saying, _I'm only Hanna and Kate's father. Sorry to be an inconvenience in your well-ordered life._

The phone call ended, he finished the check, and proceeded to look into the missing person's phone records.

Xx--

Later that day, Jack decided to send Martin and Samantha off together to Rockport, Texas, to follow some leads regarding the lab assistant. He thought they would like to get away together. If he'd seen Samantha's expression, he might have known better than to have done it. At the time, however, he wouldn't have registered what it really meant.He was more focused on the cases and his family these days.

Samantha, not particularly happy, decided she'd better buy a book at the airport to read on the flight, so she could avoid any small talk with Martin. She knew he wouldn't be exactly pleased about the situation either. They were managing okay during day-to-day work, but this was a bit much.

It was Jack's decision, of course, and there wasn't anything she could do about it.

To make matters worse, the trip had been pointless in the end; the leads hadn't helped. The book Samantha bought had been a god-send; it had helped distract her from Martin's twitchiness during the flights.

By the time they got back, quite late, the case had been solved, the missing person found dumped and quite dead.

A very trying time, all in all.

Xx--

Jack had been back two weeks before Vivian really noticed the trend. She casually mentioned it to Samantha, who'd happened to have been wondering about it too. They speculated who could broach the subject with Jack. Vivian pointed at Samantha; Samantha pointed back at Vivian. It was mutually agreed without saying that Martin and Danny were not the ones to do this at all.

"Why me?" asked Samantha first.

"Because, you know, you two have the past… involvement thing and all that," Vivian said, _sotto voce_.

"Oh, come _on_," said Samantha, incredulous that Vivian would even stoop to use that old chestnut. "You've known him longer."

"He doesn't confide in me much, not since he stayed in New York." Certainly not as much after she had words with him in the car that night. Things had eased between them during her heart problems and operation, but it still wasn't the same.

"Well, he doesn't talk to me much since…" _our affair ended…_ "Martin," she finished spinelessly, knowing it was all common knowledge now.

"Together then?"

"It would be best."

Xx—

The two women marched into Jack's office and positioned themselves in front of Jack's desk.

Taking a deep breath, Samantha started. "Jack, we've noticed you're not getting into the field as much as you used to."

"Your point being?" he looked at them over the top of his glasses.

"It's unlike you. You're not the 'stay behind the desk' kind of guy."

He appeared to be considering this for a moment, and then he went back to his paperwork. "Noted. Have you both finished?"

"Jack-" Samantha began again, but Vivian cut her off.

"We worry about you, Jack."

"Thanks, but I assign the work around here, remember? There's a lot to catch up on. And I'm sure you both have better things to do than come in here and nag me." _Like a wife would._ The words were almost visible, hanging in the air. He noticed Samantha stealing a glance at the new photo before he returned his attention to the paper in front of him.

"So, this is your new idea of leading? Staying in the office, _hiding_ behind your desk?" Vivian threw at him, tersely.

Jack's head snapped up. "If I get shot in the field and die, then my daughters have no-one. Before, at least they'd have their mother. All their grandparents are too old. I need to be there for them." He glared at them both.

Samantha folded her arms, defensively, not liking being stared at by Jack, or Maria. "But you could just as easily get hit crossing the road."

"The odds are higher there. Being shot by a perp in our job is more likely." _You Sam, of all people, should know that._

"I have Reggie –doesn't stop me," Vivian pointed out.

"He would still have Marcus. Think about it, Viv."

She stared at him; as if that hadn't gone through her own mind once before. It had given her comfort that Marcus and Reggie would still have each other if she had died before, during or after her heart operation.

She sighed loudly, knowing he had a point and that ultimately, all friendship aside, he was her boss. "Fair enough." She turned to leave. "Come on, Samantha."

Samantha looked at her, and then at Jack, who was already head down. She quickly followed Vivian into the corridor. "What? We're letting him get away with this?"

Vivian held a hand up. "Leave it… just leave it."

Xx—

Samantha rested her chin on her hand as she listened. She was interested in what he was saying, she really was.

James Alexander, NYPD Homicide Detective, 29th Precinct, was nicely dressed, and reasonably good-looking. He had asked questions and had listened as she spoke about herself. She couldn't fault him, really. He seemed a little too fond of sports, but Samantha was used to that. They had bought each other a round of drinks, but then went Dutch in paying for their meals; first date and all that. It was very pleasant.

She hadn't told anyone -that someone she knew, at NYPD, knew someone who had seen her there, on the day of Maria's funeral, and eventually talked her into going on the blind date with the other person -James. It had taken a while to organize, but here they were, finally.

She could tell he liked her -a lot. She knew by the evening's end that he wanted to see her again, and when he asked her if she was free for lunch, maybe the day after next depending on their workload, she said yes.

She could have invited him back to her place. She could have used him, abused him in the best possible and shallow way, and said thanks, it was fun, but let's just leave it at that.

But she actually thought she might take this slowly -for a change.

It wasn't as if there were any other prospects around.

Xx—

Danny walked into the bullpen, a broad grin on his face. Vivian spotted him first.

"Why, Danny, I didn't know you were a soft toy and balloon kind of guy."

Danny raised a sardonic eyebrow. "I'm not. This-" he said with a flourish, "was left at reception for a certain someone."

"Really," remarked Jack, turning around from the whiteboard; the rare visitor from the confines of his office. "Who?"

Danny looked towards Samantha, amused by the growing look of horror on her face. "Milady, I believe this cute, little puppy and balloon is for you," and he handed over the gift to her with due pomp.

"Ah… thanks, Danny." She quickly put the gift to one side, feeling all eyes on her.

"You going to read the card?" Martin asked.

"I know who it's from… I went on a date the other night, okay?" James had had to cancel their second date due to work, and this looked like an apology for the rain check. Regarding deliveries at the office, she remembered this treatment; in particular, Keller's flowers. Jack's reaction had been interesting back then; she wasn't sure if it was jealousy or not, even now. She glanced up at Jack. His expression was blank, impassive. Maybe this was the same face. It shouldn't matter to her, not now, but all of a sudden it did. She didn't know what to do.

Jack was hiding his reaction well; he was stunned.

He was lucky to be still standing.

This was news to him.

_When the hell did all this happen?_

Then there was Martin. "Toy and balloon, huh? Whoever he is, he doesn't know you very well." Even he knew she liked flowers, more than soft toys.

She glared at him. "Is that right?'

Vivian and Danny decided to duck for cover, hastily finding something to do at their desks.

By this time, Jack was already on his way back to his office, needing to be alone. Not only had Samantha and Martin broken up, but even worse, she was now seeing someone else.

He sat down on his office sofa heavily, fortunate that his legs had held him that far; his mind was reeling.

He tried to think of indications that should have alerted him. He couldn't think of anything off hand. She was a little testy that time in Park Avenue during the Adisa Teno case… She was quite concerned about Martin during his time in hospital, but then everyone was. Maybe there was some guilt there. Perhaps he should have clicked something was up then. Maybe he had been too self-absorbed the last few months to notice. Since the deposition, really.

_Idiot!_

They'd split up.

And for awhile now, it seemed.

She was dating someone else.

_Shit._

Something had been twinging inside him, some deep feeling he thought he had reluctantly buried long ago.

He shoved a hand into his trouser pocket, fingering the dotted key. He'd get round to it, soon. She might need it again.

But a small part of him hoped not.

Back at the bullpen, having had enough, Samantha walked over to Martin. "I want to point something out to you, Fitzgerald." He met her stare for stare. "You dumped me, which does not give you the right to comment on my personal life. However, being the one who was dumped gives me free rein to comment about yours."

He looked levelly at her, tapping a pen on his desk, wondering where his painkillers were. "Really…"

She narrowed her eyes at him to emphasize her point. "Yes, really. Those are the rules," and she went back to her work station, point made. She picked up the card that was attached to the dog and read it. She could fault James the choice of gift, but not the thought behind it. She'd give him a call.

Xx—

Vivian walked into Jack's office, just as he was finishing on the phone. He sighed exasperatedly as she approached, rubbing his eyes.

"What's up?" she enquired, sitting herself down.

"I'm supposed to be going out for dinner tonight and Stevie said she could baby-sit, but now she's busy…" He looked angrily at the phone, as if that would help.

"Important dinner?"

He leaned back in his chair. "You know Max and Anne?"

"Yeah, the FBI super couple. That was certainly an interesting and complicated case we had with him." There was an internal investigation still going on about it. "How's his recovery going?"

"Very well, but they're still having marriage problems. They seem to want me to help them out, work with them through some issues. Aside from everything else."

Vivian couldn't help but stare, trying to keep a straight face. "You..."

Jack shot her a waspish look. "Just because I'm not the world's greatest expert on marriage, doesn't mean I can't help out some old friends." He looked through the glass walls towards the bullpen. "I should have hired him, not Elena. Helped him out. He had much more experience. I _actually_ told him it would take him a couple of years to come up to speed –a veteran agent! And then I get a newbie instead who told me she really wanted White Collar." He shook his head, not understanding his own logic.

"Maybe you felt your friendship might get in the way," reasoned Vivian. "I always wondered why you think you needed someone else on the team. We always seemed to manage."

Jack tipped his head to one side. "I wonder that myself. You're okay. Martin's fine. Even if Max was one hundred percent fit, I don't feel I'd need the extra person now anyway."

"Well, getting back to your dilemma, I can help you out; bring the girls over, we'll take care of them."

Jack raised his eyebrows, genuinely surprised. "Really?"

"Definitely. I get a bit worn out with all the male domination in the household. I don't get a chance to do girly stuff very often." She was already planning to do some baking with them, something involving chocolate and frosting.

"I'd appreciate that; you're a star."

Vivian grinned. "You bet."

tbc


	4. Things Change

**A/N: **Between my virus-plagued PC and general day-day life intruding, I can finally get this difficult chapter out into the world... Many thanks to Inken for some valuable thoughts, Diane for some americanism checking, and Samantha for some butt-kicking (these Canadian gals, I tell you...), and the biggest thanks, as always for the esteemed Mariel -writer, beta, tireless teacherand Super Mom- I don't know how she does it...

**Rating:** I think an M for this one...

Enough! Time to post. Any mistakes here are because I've been tweaking like a mad thing after Mariel gave the okay. I know she'll understand.

* * *

**Chapter Four**

**Things Change.**

Xx--

Jack got home and found another small pile of mail waiting for him. Frankly, he wouldn't have minded if it'd been made up of nothing but bills, but it wasn't. Instead, it was a pile of more letters and cards from people sending their condolences from farther a field, as word of Maria's death slowly filtered through. He'd had no idea Maria had known so many people, or that so many had known her.

It was interesting as well as odd. Either the writers didn't know they had been divorced, or they were pretending that they were still married, still together in some strange universe. Maybe it had been easier to write their thoughts that way.

He'd have to go out and get more thank you cards, having used up all the specially printed ones the previous week. There were still some he hadn't replied to, and he had to get onto it. Another evening taken up. It was all beginning to aggravate him, and he acknowledged that. He just wished it was all over and done with, but the commiserations just didn't seem to stop.

He wanted some semblance of a normal life; he needed it.

He called out that he was home and turned around to find Stevie there, hands shoved in the back of her jeans. "How was today?"

"The girls were fine. They're in their room."

"Same time tomorrow okay?" She nodded. "Thanks for staying later; have you all eaten?"

She nodded again. "We kept you some leftovers, in the fridge."

Jack wondered what culinary experiment Stevie had invented this time. "Thanks for that. Look, can you stay another half hour? I need to go and get some cards and envelopes." He indicated the pile. "For people who've written about-"

"I know what you want. I'll get them for you as I need to get some stuff too -for Hanna. So, can I have some money?" she asked, expectantly holding a hand out.

Jack frowned. "Stuff? What kind of stuff? We just went shopping for food the other day."

"You know, 'stuff' stuff."

"You're not helping me here."

"Things."

"Stevie, _what_ exactly?"

She rolled her eyes and lowered her voice. "Tampons and napkins, okay? She doesn't want me to tell you, all right?"

Jack's jaw nearly dropped. "When did this start?"

"What –this month, or when she started getting her periods?" Stevie said, in a mystified voice.

"This isn't her first?"

The penny dropped. "Ah… no. They started a few months ago. She's been a bit erratic, since Maria and all that."

Dumbfounded, Jack could only pull out his wallet and hand a note to Stevie. She grabbed it off him and set out. "I know the type of card you want; I'll get a pack. Back in ten."

He heard her close the door behind her, but that was about it.

He'd gone blank.

Utterly vacant.

Dear God, his eldest daughter had become a woman, and he hadn't known.

But one thing he did know for certain.

Maria had known.

She'd never said a single goddamned thing.

_Bitch_.

Of course Jack wouldn't have expected to have been told outright; it was a particular mother-daughter thing, but at the very least Maria could have told him -sometime or another. Mothers were supposed to tell fathers about things regarding their daughters, especially concerning things like this. Maria certainly hadn't, and he knew she had done it on purpose, just to get at him. Successfully finding another reason to hurt and get back at him.

He was torn between going to see Hanna and talking about it, and just staying away. Wondering what to do, he went to his bedroom, took off his jacket, tie and shoes, and then padded out to the girls' room. He knocked on the door.

"Hanna honey, you okay?" he asked, not expecting to be invited in.

There was a pause. "Yeah," she said in a small voice.

"Stevie's getting your… things; is there anything I can do?" As if he knew.

There was another pause as Hanna thought about this, and what he now evidently knew. "No, it's fine… Thanks."

Jack reached a hand out, and laid it against the closed door, wanting to be there for her. "Well, I'm here if you need me. Okay?"

"She's fine, Dad," he heard Kate say, a diminutive protector. And it wouldn't be much longer for her, either.

"Okay," he repeated, feeling several shades of useless. He went to the darkened living room and fell into an armchair, staring into the chasm of looming teenagerdom and all the pitfalls that went with it.

Jack was unable to decide if he should cry or throw one of the many pictures of Maria that the girls had put out at a wall.

It was just one thing after another.

Even from beyond the grave Maria could get back at him.

He was so angry and upset he couldn't even see straight. Tipping his head back against the cushion, he shut his eyes.

He was still there, sitting in the dark, when Stevie returned. She could see him, but not the whitened knuckles gripping the arm rests.

Xx—

The next morning, a tired Jack was on his cell phone as he exited the elevator. "…You'll be fine Anne, really. You can both work through this… Yes, call me later. It'll work out. Trust me."

Samantha was on her way to the break room as Jack was putting his phone away, an exasperated look on his face.

"Bad news?" she asked, by way of good morning.

Jack was in a rare mood to share his annoyance. "Ah, no… it's Max and Anne. She rings me. He rings me. I'm a damn go-between."

"Oh," was all Samantha could think of to say, knowing of their problems, but not understanding Jack's role in it. "Shouldn't they be going to counselling?"

Jack shrugged as if in answer. "If she wasn't so needy and he wasn't so pig headed…" he trailed off, pushing open the door to his office with his foot, regretting he'd ever offered to help.

His phone rang again as he put his briefcase down, and he checked the ID. Sighing loudly, he answered the call. "Morning Max, what's up?"

This was getting ridiculous; it had been going on for a couple of weeks, ever since the dinner. Samantha was right; he was going to have to force them into counselling -really.

Xx—

Later in the morning, Jack looked up as Dr. Harris sat down in his visitor's chair. "Make yourself at home," he said dryly.

"You haven't been back to see me," she said, looking at him over the top of her coffee mug.

"I've been busy."

"Curiously deskbound."

"Someone been talking?"

She sipped her dark brew before answering. "Let's just say it's been… observed. You're not the type to stay behind your desk."

"I'm fine."

"Are you sleeping okay?"

"Well enough," Jack said in a low warning tone, not happy with this particular conversation. He hadn't been near those damn pills since the vivid dreams.

"Drinking?'

"No," he said, emphatically.

"Then how are you handling things?"

Jack threw his pen down and took off his glasses. "You're not exactly beating around the bush today, are you?"

"You take everything in, you soak it up. You need some sort of outlet, and I can't really see you playing squash."

"And you're recommending pills and alcohol? I'm impressed, sign me up. I'll take three months' worth. In fact, make it six."

"You know what I mean."

"Lisa, I'm fine. I'm sure there are other more worthy cases out there for you to lecture to." _Anne and Max would be a good start…_

She tipped her head towards him. "Not as many as you'd think, actually. It's been pretty quiet."

Before he could think up a suitably sarcastic reply, his cell phone rang. He noted the ID. Anne, again. Although he really didn't want to take it, it was a useful excuse to get Lisa out of his office. "I really have to take this call. We done?"

"For now," Dr. Harris threw over her shoulder, exiting.

Feeling a headache coming on, he waited until the door was shut before answering the phone.

Xx—

Hanna tugged on his sleeve. "Dad, there's something we want to talk to you about."

Sitting at the kitchen table, Jack looked up from his newspaper to see his daughters standing beside him. It was nice to see Hanna; she'd been pretty much avoiding him since yesterday evening. He was trying not to look at her with the sadness he felt, or show the anger he also felt about their mother. The girls were growing up so fast… "Mm?"

Hanna continued: "We've been thinking and…" Kate nudged Hanna; Hanna nudged back.

Putting down the paper, Jack couldn't help but be suspicious. "What are you two up to?"

Kate looked down, suddenly interested in her clasped fingers. "Well, summer holidays are coming up and we'd like…"

Hanna rolled her eyes at her sister's hesitancy. "Grandma and Grandpa have invited us to stay with them at their lake house."

"And we really want to go."

"It'll be easier on you."

"Yeah, without us around."

They both took a deep breath, like some great weight had been lifted off them.

Jack stared at them. "You're joking." It wasn't hard to guess whose idea this was, and he knew it wouldn't have initially been the girls' "You're both serious." He looked specifically at Kate, the follower. She nodded.

The idea of his daughters being away from him again struck Jack unexpectedly. "I'll look into it," he said, knowing that they could both eventually talk him into anything, and do so with their mother's method. This had obviously been planned the last time Joyce and Mick came to visit. He had to be impressed that the girls had kept it quiet this long.

He was a doomed man, but he wasn't going to make it easy on them.

"_If_ I say it's okay, you have to visit your Grandpa Frank before you go."

"Do we have to?" Kate whined.

"Yes," he said firmly.

"But that place gives me the creeps." Hanna's turn to whinge.

"And he gets our names mixed up."

It cut no ice with Jack. "Then I'm still thinking about it. That's the deal. This is what grandchildren do."

"O-kay," Hanna said, morosely.

They went off, suitably chastened, to their bedroom, leaving Jack alone. He shoved the newspaper to one side.

_Great, now even my kids don't want to be around me._

Xx--

Later that night, after checking in on the sleeping girls, Jack decided it was time to turn in. It was 10.30 and his day had gone on long enough. In fact the whole week had. His mood hadn't improved as the girls had sulked in their bedroom all evening, hoping to wear him down with their absence, he supposed.

He was just about to turn the lights off in the living room when he heard an insistent buzzing at the door. After checking who it was, he let in a rather rumpled Anne.

_Christ, now what? _

The moment he shut the door behind her, she fell, half sobbing, into his arms.

"Hey, what's up?" he asked gently, as if he couldn't guess, as if he really needed this right now.

"Oh Jack, it's Max…"

"What's wrong?" This was almost sounding familiar, too.

She sniffed miserably. "He hasn't come home. I don't know where he is."

"Well, he's probably on a case or working late, now that he's back at work." One week back and consigned to desk duty, Jack knew that Max hated every minute of it.

"No-one knows where he is. It's just like it was when he was sleeping with that… that…"

Maneuvering her to sit on the sofa and sitting down beside her, Jack could only nod, feeling torn between his two friends, and aware of the fact that both of them knew about himself and Samantha. He hadn't said anything to either of them, but word had gotten quietly out. But he didn't talk about it, and neither did they. He felt that Max's affair was more to do with entrapment, anyway.

"Max could be at home right now," he ventured.

"Well, he wasn't when I left two hours ago, and his cell phone is turned off."

Jack guessed she must have been at a bar; she certainly smelt like it. "I'll get you a taxi," Jack said, reaching for the phone.

She looked at him, red-eyed, flushed and pitiful, and reached out to grasp his arm. "Can't I stay here with you tonight?"

"No!" Jack said, more loudly than he should have. _What the hell…?_

"But I trust you, you're the only one who understands…" she said, edging closer. Jack could smell the alcohol on her more strongly now. He remembered being attracted to her once, many years ago, but that was another world. Right now, on top of everything else, he could only see another version of Maria staring at him, all dark eyed and dark haired, and a lawyer to boot. He felt more than a little repulsed.

"Anne…" Jack warned, gently but firmly pushing her away. "It's not like that."

"But it was once; I remember the way you used to look at me…" She moved nearer again, and lifted a hand up to his cheek.

He pushed her away, less gently this time. "_That_ was a long time ago." This week was definitely one he wanted to forget and it was just getting worse. He got stood up, picked up the phone and, watching as Anne slumped further on the sofa, ordered a taxi for her. He then sat down again himself, but on an armchair apart from her.

"It shouldn't be too long."

She threw him a look as she crossed her arms against her chest. "Thanks," she said, huffily.

Just then his phone rang -Max, looking for Anne. Jack explained she was on her way home. She'd been here, looking for him. Max rang off.

"Max is nearly home, he'll be there when you get back."

"Where's he been?"

Jack sighed loudly. "I don't know." And frankly, right at that moment, he didn't care. He had enough problems of his own and was tired of dealing with their incessant phone calls and complicated trust issues. It was like a damned soap opera he had gotten himself caught up in.

Suddenly, if shakily, she got up. "I'll wait outside. Sorry to cause you any problems."

"For Christ's sake don't be stupid, Anne. You can wait here."

She turned to face him. "I thought you were my friend."

"I am, Anne, but I'm also Max's. I'm not taking sides, but I can't help you both out anymore… You need to see someone, Lisa Harris maybe."

Anne shook her head vigorously. "I can't. If people at the office knew we were going to see her… I don't want that."

Jack could only shake his head. It was always about 'what people thought' with her. Saving him from a reply, the taxi honked outside. He walked past her to open the front door. "Good night, Anne."

She followed him. "Good night," she said, standing on the doorstep, giving him one last pleading look, silently asking for him to let her stay.

"Max is waiting for you," he said firmly. She turned and went to the taxi, not giving him a second glance while he watched her go. He shut the door, relieved the day was over.

He looked over to the side table and saw his keys next to the pile of stamped envelopes. He really should return Samantha's key to her. He had been foolish to hang on to it for this long. He'd put it on his key ring with his other keys for safe keeping and it didn't really belong there, anymore.

Xx—

Jack hated cases involving children. It was natural enough to, whether it ended happily or not. This time it was a case involving separated parents. A father had taken his two sons -six and four- for a simple fishing expedition Friday night and was to return them to their mother Saturday afternoon. He would usually have had them Sunday as well, but they'd agreed to change as the boys had a birthday party to attend. They never turned up.

Jack decided not to stay in the office for this one when it was called in Saturday evening and took Vivian along to handle the upset mother. Stevie was happy to help out and stay over with the girls. Although Jack was grateful that she was always willing to help out, he felt that she also needed to get a life someday. But just not yet.

It was early, about 2am Sunday morning, when the report came through. The missing man's car had been found, with three bodies inside. It appeared that the father had taken the boys interstate, driven to an abandoned spot, and had shot them before turning the gun on himself. Forensics still had to work the scene, but the outcome was clear; the mother fainted at the news. There was no need for them to go there.

It was times like that that Jack also hated his job. Parents both, he and Vivian were silent as they headed back to the office. It had been so quick, between the initial alert to the dreadful news arriving. Just a few hours. He asked his team for a preliminary report, before letting them go; their weekend of sorts to start again.

As a weary Samantha was about say goodbye to Jack, he held his hand up and motioned her to come into his office.

She raised her eyebrows in enquiry at him.

"Uh, Sam, I was wondering if we might have a chat… Sunday -today- sometime… If you're free, that is."

"Sure… now maybe?" Her voice didn't mask her tiredness.

He shook his head. "Out of the office -if you haven't made plans that is."

She and James might have been doing something, but she'd phoned him the previous night, not knowing where the case was going. The gift from earlier on had prompted a flurry of calls and a series of rain checks that seemed to be going on and on. "No, I'm free. No plans." She wondered what it might be about.

"Two thirty, your place?"

It was too late for lunch, and definitely not a dinner invitation. As she was considering it, he added, "The girls are going to go on a play date anyway, or something. I didn't know how long we were going to be on the case, and I have some other things to do," he explained, needlessly.

"Okay," she said casually. "I'll see you then."

"Thanks."

Curious, but inwardly not wanting to make too big a deal of it, she left.

Xx—

Right on time, Jack knocked on the door and waited for Samantha to open it, rubbing his unshaved chin. She smiled as she stood aside for him. Strangely hesitant, he went in. He hadn't been in Samantha's apartment for years. He stood awkwardly in the living room, like he was getting his bearings again; unsure why he was really there.

She'd gone for a run around noon after a morning sleep. About the only thing that Samantha could be grateful to Martin for was reintroducing her to jogging. She'd done it many years ago, but hadn't found the time or inclination in recent years to keep at it. But now she made the time. Martin may have been over in her personal life, but she was keeping up the renewed habit.

She felt good, being freshly scrubbed and freckled from the shower. "Can I get you something?"

Jack was now looking around, as if for the first time. "Ah… maybe"

She decided he needed a glass of water at least. She went to the kitchen and poured him one from a bottle from the fridge.

Returning to the living room and handing it to him, she asked, "What's up? I have to say I'm quite surprised."

He drank some water before putting the glass down on the coffee table. "I found something of yours –at home. I wanted to give it back to you," he said, feeling a little self-conscious.

Puzzled, she wondered what it might be.

"Your place. Why would you have something of mine?" Much to her regret, there was nothing of Jack's at her apartment; nothing tucked away for purely sentimental reasons, as much as she would have liked there to have been. She had considered swiping his shirt one night, but he would had to have left bare-chested; the idea that she had even considered once still made her smile.

He dug into his jeans' back pocket, and held the key out to her. She recognized it immediately; the dots had been her idea. She stared at it.

"I thought… I thought you returned it." She honestly hadn't missed it, and she'd never given a key to Martin. She had given this one to Jack after the fourth time he'd come over. He'd been cautious, but chuffed that she'd considered him enough to entrust one to him.

"Obviously not."

"Where did you find it?" she asked, taking it from his palm, and examining it, as if for the first time.

"In a drawer of odds and ends. I really don't know how it got there. Maybe I put it there, maybe Maria found it and did…"

It looked like any other old key, to anyone else.

She smiled, thinking about some memories of when they were together in her apartment. "I can see why you didn't want to give it to me at work."

Jack rubbed the back of his neck. "Well, all things considered…"

She looked up at him, almost daring herself to ask him if he wanted to keep it, for memories past. "When will you be back to normal?" she asked, putting the key on the coffee table.

He blinked. "Who's to say I'm not?"

"I don't know. You haven't been yourself for a long time." She couldn't quite put her finger on it, but she knew the Jack Malone of old hated being cooped up in the office, for one thing.

Jack shrugged. "I do my job, that's all that matters."

"Really?"

"Really."

Samantha could only shake her head at the typical Jack response. Once upon a time there had been no secrets between them, only intimacy. She missed that. It had never been the same since they had ended the affair.

Since _he_ had ended the affair.

"How long is the mourning period for an ex-wife, anyway?" she asked, almost under her breath, reaching forward to pick up his glass.

"What did you say?" he asked, taking hold of her arm and stopping her, turning him toward her.

She should have been warned by the look on his face, and seen what was coming.

"I wondered how long-"

Jack suddenly pushed Samantha backwards against the wall and the door jamb, pinning her wrists down by her sides. "Jack!"

"You have no idea what I feel at the moment," he said in a low forceful tone. "You don't know what I've been going through. If it's not one damn thing, it's another." He pushed against her roughly again, emphasizing his point.

"I can help-"

"No, you can't. No one can," he said between clenched teeth. Samantha knew this look, this demeanor; this was don't-fuck-with-me Jack Malone.

"Jack, please, let me…" she said, trying to diffuse the situation, thinking he was over-reacting.

He realized how close he was, nose to nose. He hadn't been this physically close to her in a long, long time. Smelling her fresh scent, feeling her soft skin under his hands, her body against his; he was suddenly drunk with a powerful want. A specific kind, which was beginning to cloud his judgment, numbing his brain.

This wasn't love, it barely qualified as lust or desire; those required thought.

He crushed his lips angrily against hers.

Samantha's initial reaction was surprise and shock, even more so when his tongue forced its way into her mouth. His body pressed hers further against the wall.

Hadn't she wanted this once upon a time? Of course she had, but lately she hadn't been so sure; now her residual longing for him resurfaced and outweighed anything else, and she tried returning the kiss -desperately. She managed to move her hands down, so he was clasping them instead of her wrists, their fingers tightly interlocking.

Still locked in the harsh kiss, he let go of one of her hands to grab clumsily at her track pants.

"Not… here," she managed, tearing her mouth away from his.

He pulled back, and taking her arm, hauled her through the door to the bedroom, practically throwing her on the bed.

Samantha hoped he would hold back, like the Jack she had once known: the generous and thoughtful lover. Let themselves enjoy the moment, like they'd used to.

But he was pulling roughly at her sweat pants and underwear, pulling them down and off, then unzipping his jeans and fumbling with his boxers.

She wasn't ready for him at all when he plunged into her.

She gasped loudly, and winced at the pain he was causing her; he wasn't giving her time to adjust to him at all as his thrusts started. His head and face were buried against the crook of her neck, his breath hot, his unshaved cheeks grazing her skin, his weight pinning her down. She didn't know where to put her arms or hands –on his back, or his shoulders. She settled for one hand gripping the edge of the mattress, wishing he'd suddenly realize what he was doing and take his time.

For his part, Jack wasn't even conscious of his actions. He knew he was here, with Sam, right now, but in the back of his mind, he saw Maria, and all the anger and fury at her machinations was unleashed in this frenzied assault on Samantha's body.

Which didn't last long.

It had been a long time for Jack, however –months, years, he couldn't possibly remember, even if it was Maria. And here he was with Sam, again…

He came with a long shudder and a groan, a few late thrusts, and then, becoming still, he collapsed on her, breathing heavily. Then he drew out and rolled off her, onto his back.

Samantha threw him a bewildered look.

_What the hell was that?_

He'd never left her unsatisfied this way, even in their most desperate times. She wondered if it might have helped him in some way, while she'd got nothing out of it, save some physical pain.

Rather than just lie there and feeling uncomfortable, she decided to get up and go to the bathroom to clean up the stickiness. Samantha was a veteran Pill taker, but condoms really had their uses. She left Jack laying there, his forearm flung across his eyes.

After a few minutes, as his senses returned to normal, Jack could hear water running in the bathroom. He moved his arm away from his face and snapped his eyes open. Suddenly sitting up, he swung his legs onto the floor before burying his face in his hands.

_Jesus Christ… _

Standing up, he could hear Samantha's soft footfall as she returned to the bedroom.

"Well, if you want to try that again later…" she said, finding him with his back to her, tucking in his boxers. "Hey…" she called softly. His body tensed, but he didn't turn around. She stayed where she was, waiting until he finished doing up his jeans.

"It's okay… really," she tried to reassure him, trying to gauge his mood. He moved toward the bedroom doorway, still not making eye contact. She reached out a hand, not to stop, but just to touch his arm. "Jack-"

He looked at her finally, and her breath caught as she saw the expression of sheer wretchedness on his face. "Sam… I'm so sorry… I should never have-" he managed.

"It's okay." Although she wasn't honestly sure what she felt about what had happened.

"It's… not. I'm sorry," he reiterated, before rushing out the door.

She heard the front door slam shut.

She wasn't going after him.

Looking at the disheveled bed, she decided it was evidence of another complication in their relationship.

If that's what it was.

Xx—

Jack managed to get home despite his blind daze. Once there, he headed straight for the whisky and took a large swig straight from the bottle.

_Oh my God…_

What had he done?

What had he let himself become?

He was ashamed.

Ashamed of his actions; ashamed of his behavior.

What would he have done, if she'd actually said no?

He didn't know and he didn't like that aspect of himself.

He also knew that she didn't actually say yes, either.

He'd fucked her, like an animal, and then left her, like a coward. It was the only way he could describe his actions.

He'd jeopardized his precious -sometimes tenuous- relationship with Samantha, his career, his very being.

All for _that_.

He looked at his watch. The girls would be home in a couple of hours. He took another swig of the whisky, feeling it course down his throat, numbing it, before returning the bottle to the cupboard.

So much for being strong.

Leaning back against the counter, he wiped his face with his hands, wondering what kind of pathetic man he'd become. He knew he'd have to face Samantha at work tomorrow, and somehow get through the consequences.

He went to his bedroom, drawing the curtains before lying on the bed, burying his face in his pillow.

Being alone in the dark with his conscience was the very least he deserved.

Jack didn't know it, but at that precise moment, Samantha was doing exactly the same thing.

Lying on her bed, trying to comprehend what had gone on, not long before.

Feeling raw, in every sense of the word, she didn't know what was going to happen.

Or what it meant.

_tbc_

Xx--


	5. Wrong Places

**A/N: **I wasn't really expecting to post this until later, but why not? Thanks to the marvellousMariel, who did a super speedy job on the last check, and to Trish for some secret squirrel advice... BTW Jack, in my AU story,has short hair at the back and those lovely silver sides -not that I'm obsessed or anything like that...

* * *

**Chapter Five**

**Wrong Places**

Xx--

Where do you go to hide?

An office is good. And since Jack had been spending so much time in his, it wouldn't be noticed.

That's if he could get out of the damn car.

It was cooler in there, much more so than the physical heat outside it. He had barely noticed that summer had arrived. There would be metaphorical heat outside the car too -of the Samantha kind.

Monday morning, and Jack had been sitting in his car in the Federal Plaza parking garage for a good ten minutes. His fingers were alternatively tapping the steering wheel and tracing the outline of it. He'd been wondering when the best time to go to his office was -so he could sequester himself there. He knew the team would already be in the bullpen and he couldn't keep putting it off.

He played with the various buttons on the dashboard; pressing the air-conditioner's buttons, adjusting the air flow. Then he began with the car radio, flicking between the stations. At this rate he would drain the battery. Even a phone call from Max or Anne would be welcome.

He'd almost considered calling in sick, but if Samantha was also thinking of doing that, it wouldn't look too good -even if nothing _had _happened yesterday. Anyway, he wasn't that unprofessional.

The previous evening, the girls had been delivered safely back home around 5.30. They had sensed he wasn't in a good mood, so had been happy to take advantage of him by watching too much TV, playing too many video games and eating far too much ordered in pizza. Jack had let them exploit him so he could keep to himself; it had been for the best.

He'd had a crappy night's sleep; analysing, dissecting and trying to work out his behavior with Samantha. Wondering what would happen, could happen, or should happen next.

At two a.m. he'd tried hard not to remember the fragrant fresh smell of Samantha's hair.

Around three a.m. he'd tried to banish the thought of her body under his.

The thoughts were going through his mind for all the wrong reasons.

Full of self-loathing and guilt, he had felt like hell and exhausted when the alarm had finally gone off. It had felt like he had gotten a whole five minutes sleep.

While he had slowly showered and shaved, he had wondered what Samantha was really thinking about him and what the day would bring with her.

Sighing deeply and unable to evade it all for any longer, he picked up his briefcase and got out of the car.

Xx--

Samantha caught a glimpse of Jack going into his office, shutting the door behind him. He emerged about ten minutes later, looking tired, with paperwork for Martin. He said good morning to the team, his eyes skimming over Samantha, and then he returned to his office. Vivian, Danny and Martin continued their work, not noticing anything unusual, but Samantha had watched Jack leave.

_So, this is how it's going to be._

From what she knew about Jack, he would go into retreat mode, withdraw into himself. She'd seen it before. It was hard to help him when he got like this –remote, distant.

Formerly, Samantha would have marched into Jack's office and demanded to know what was going on, and forced him to tell her.

But this was a different Samantha, and that was a different Jack.

He hadn't phoned after he left, and she hadn't expected him to.

The only phone call that night had been at about 7.40 and she'd let the answering machine get it. It had been James, hoping to catch up, wondering if she was free. It was a shame that she actually was; they never seemed to mesh their schedules. She had heard his voice and found herself rolling over in the bed, covering her head with a pillow. She hadn't been in the mood for anything or anyone, and that included James.

Deciding a bath would do her some good, she had filled the bathtub up and had eased herself into the water, making it as hot as she could tolerate.

What the hell had exactly happened between her and Jack?

What had exactly compelled him to… she couldn't even begin to figure out why it had happened, what had set him off.

They'd had sex.

That was a definite fact.

She could have stopped him at any time. She knew what to say and do if necessary, and they knew each other well enough to know that 'no' meant exactly that.

She hadn't felt violated, just… disappointed. Not so much with the sex, but with him and his reaction to it.

How was she supposed to act toward him now?

And more to the point, what the hell was going on in Jack's mind these days?

She returned her gaze to her computer screen.

It was a horrible situation she and Jack had spiralled into, and she didn't know what to do about it.

Xx--

"Samantha, you free?" Jack's quiet voice behind her all but made her jump -nearly, but not quite.

She paused, her hand on the computer mouse, cursor poised. "Yes, what's up?" She didn't turn around, and noted that he didn't call her 'Sam'.

"Your expense report, there's a couple of points I need to go through with you. Nothing serious," he added, staring at the back of her chair.

"You want me to come to your office?" she baited, double clicking.

"Here is fine."

_He's playing it safe._

"Okay," she swivelled in her seat and rolled over to the bullpen table. Martin was now the only other one at his desk, still going through the papers Jack had given him earlier. He glanced over at them before returning his attention back to the sheets.

Jack sat next to Samantha, close but not touching; less easy to see her eyes that way, rather than sitting across from her. He knew she would want and need to talk about yesterday -sometime. But he didn't want a confrontation. He'd been sitting in his office just staring at his desk, wondering how to face her, yet needing to go over the report that had bounced back from the Payroll department and had arrived that morning on his desk. What incredibly bad timing for an audit of her expenses to come through for him to have to do.

With her.

He'd decided to just get it over and done with. It couldn't have been avoided and neither could she.

They professionally discussed the points Jack had to go over, almost normally for them, like any other day. But there was no eye contact, no banter. Each was absorbed in the paper in front of them, focussing intensely, almost needing the audit's pathetically finicky points as a distraction.

Martin pushed himself away from his desk and got up. "I need to see the tech guys," he announced before setting off.

Jack and Samantha both watched him depart.

There they were, suddenly alone -together in the bullpen.

The very situation Jack had wanted to avoid. He went into a -unusual for him- small panic mode.

_What the hell is wrong with me these days?_

"This is fine, I'm done." He started to get up.

Samantha laid a restraining hand on his arm and looked up at him. "Talk to me," she whispered.

He looked down at her hand, not wanting her to touch him; he didn't deserve it.

"I can't," he admitted quietly. He moved his arm away, but didn't know why he couldn't quite make himself leave.

She got up, ostensibly to give him back the papers, her eyes seeking his again. "You said you're sorry; I've said it's okay."

Focussing on the report in her hand, he said, barely audibly, "What I did... Sam…"

_Was unconscionable. _

_Was unfathomable_.

_Was possibly the worst thing I could ever to do you._

_And I've hurt you and dear God I am so damn sorry…_

As if on cue, before Samantha could say anything further, Danny appeared. "I've got those files you wanted from archives, Jack," he said, handing over several folders.

Jack took them, welcome for the diversion. "Thanks, Danny."

"We finished?" asked Samantha.

He turned back to her, but looked at a space past her ear. "It's fine," he replied, not quite knowing what she was referring to.

She in turn wasn't sure what he meant by what he'd just said. Turning, she pushed her chair back to her work station.

Danny watched Jack leave, and then looked over at Samantha, wondering what was going on between them this time.

Maybe Vivian would know.

Xx—

Tuesday wasn't much better. A case started in the afternoon involving elderly businessman and Samantha found herself a long way out in the field with Danny. She knew she was going to have to get used to this; Jack sending her out and about, away from him. It was fairly transparent to her.

If only they could talk about it.

If only he'd _let_ her talk to him.

If only he'd just talk.

No-one else seemed to notice anything odd, or if they had, they certainly weren't saying anything. Jack's new work regime was already in place, so nothing had changed.

By Friday, with minimal work interaction between Jack and Samantha, the case was solved happily and Jack sent everyone home early. Samantha was hoping for an uninterrupted weekend this time; especially as the ghost-like James had to go visit his family somewhere in Delaware that weekend –not being disturbed was pretty much a certainty. And she didn't think Jack would just drop by unannounced, somehow.

She was beginning to think there wasn't much of a point to the James state of affairs. Taking it slow –her initial idea- was one thing, but this was ridiculous. Thinking about Jack didn't help the cause either. Her feelings for him and what had happened had confused the James issue too much.

Jack seemed more upset by their own situation than she ultimately was.

Maybe she should feel angrier at him.

Maybe she should feel something else.

Samantha didn't know.

Saturday, late morning and she decided on a combined power walk/run before it got too hot. She had been feeling cooped up in her apartment and needed to get out and about. Her favorite place, like a good New Yorker, was Central Park and today, eschewing the usual running paths, it was the South End's turn -crowds or not, it kept her on her toes.

She needed to get _something_ out of her system; if she only knew what that was.

She was in walking mode between the zoo and the pond when she spotted Jack, his girls, and a young woman with short, spiky hair and glasses she took to be Stevie –Vivian having filled her in on Jack's home situation some time before.

_Shitshitshit._

Coming to an abrupt halt, she was planning a sudden getaway before she was seen. They'd also come to a stop, obviously discussing where to go next, the girls pointing in opposite directions. Jack, holding Kate's hand, happened to turn his head, and looked straight at Samantha, indecisively rooted to the spot about twenty feet away.

Spotted and feeling she had no choice, she walked towards them.

_Shitshitshit._

"Sam, what are you doing here?" Jack couldn't hide the surprise in his voice, but his expression was carefully guarded.

"Exercising," she said, stating the obvious. She took a slug from her water bottle. "You all having a nice day out?" she asked, playing the safe game of small talk.

"You girls remember Samantha, from my work, don't you? I know it's been a while-" Jack began.

Kate smiled. "Yes, you have pretty hair."

Samantha raised her eyebrows. "Well, thank you."

"And you work with that nice looking guy with the blue eyes," said Hanna.

Samantha glanced at Jack, whose expression had changed a fraction. "Martin? Ah, yes, I do." She wondered what Jack thought about that. Hanna had certainly grown since she'd last seen her.

"We've been to the zoo," chimed Kate. "I really like the red pandas."

"Kate's been obsessing on the zoo since that we got that movie on DVD," said Hanna, with an older sister's weariness.

"I like the animation _actually_, and Gus and Ida the polar bears are cool."

Samantha nodded, not knowing which film they were talking about. She'd seen Jack with his daughters before, but not in such an informal setting, and certainly not without Maria around. She felt like she'd intruded on the happy family scene.

Jack introduced Stevie, who was eying Samantha with a protective arm around Hanna's shoulders. Then Kate was tugging at his shirt.

"Can we have ice-cream?"

"Oh…sure," said Jack, pulling out his wallet and giving Stevie some money. "Why don't you all go together?"

"You want anything?" She looked at Jack and Samantha.

Samantha shook her head, as did Jack. Stevie took the girls away -already deciding on what flavors they wanted- leaving Jack and Samantha alone. She looked at him expectantly as he watched the girls walk off. This would be so like him: choose a very public place to finally talk...

But Jack surprised her when he spoke, shuffling from foot to foot.

"We… ah… went to Maria's grave this morning," he said.

"Oh."

What else could she say to that?

"We took flowers there. The girls took it well, considering. It was the first time we'd been there since the funeral." The girls had both clung onto him as the three of them stared down at the grave and the headstone. Hanna and Kate had wanted to go, but at the same time, had been filled with apprehension. Jack had understood. Graveside visits, he had known, would become a regular thing for the girls, and he would continue to go with them -whether he actually wanted to go was a moot point- as long as they wanted him to. He would just have to put up with it for his daughters' sake, regardless of the bitterness and acrimony he felt towards Maria. He'd decided that six feet down wasn't enough; he should have asked for twice that depth, just to make sure she couldn't claw her way back out.

Samantha could only nod, mute.

"It's really very nice there, at the cemetery."

Samantha felt like she was having an outer body experience.

Jack was actually telling her about a visit to his ex-wife's grave; the ex-wife-who-wasn't when they had been having the affair.

Didn't he realise how weird this was?

She found herself wishing they both _were_ talking -yelling, shouting, whatever- about the other day. That she could handle.

This was just surreal.

As for himself, Jack thought this small talk would be better than what he'd been steering clear of, for the past week. He didn't know how wrong he was.

He carried on. "I thought the girls would like some cheering up, and they're crazy about the zoo."

"That was a good idea." Samantha said numbly, feeling the need to get away as fast as possible from this situation. "Look, I really must go. Keep the blood pumping. That sort of thing," she said lamely, already backing away.

"Oh... Okay. See you," Jack said, relieved to stop the charade. He watched a few moments as she set off into the crowd, before heading to where the girls were.

Feeling off the hook with Samantha gone, he'd already decided that his daughters weren't ever coming to the office again –especially if Martin was there.

And Danny -just to be sure.

Xx—

Jack minimised the windows on the computer screen and rubbed his eyes. Another day successfully over.

No-one missing.

No conflicts with Samantha.

He wondered if it was her avoiding him for a change this week, since the accidental meeting in Central Park.

Having had enough, he decided to leave. Looking back, he didn't know what made him wander out into the street, leaving his car in the parking garage. Didn't know why he walked a short distance before going into a bar he'd frequented some time before.

After the office, being around happy, noisy people who didn't know him was just the tonic he needed. He elbowed his way to the bar and ordered a beer. He decided to stay there, leaning against the counter, and began to watch the overhead television which was playing a baseball game. There was a small bowl of peanuts in front of him, so he popped a few of them in his mouth.

He could afford to spend a little time there; Stevie wanted to try out some new advanced bandage techniques on the girls again, after they'd finished their homework, so he'd been given a couple of hours' grace. It was a few days before they'd be off to the ex-in-laws' lake house. The beer arrived and he began to soak up the busy atmosphere.

Until he felt a tap on his shoulder. Turning around, he looked straight into Samantha's eyes.

_Christ –how small _is_ New York?_

"Are you stalking me?" she said accusingly, one hand perched upon her hip.

Mastering his own surprise, he said, "Speak for yourself," referring to the park. "Of course -I waited several hours before making my presence known." He knew she could tell that he was mocking her. "And you're here because…?"

She folded her arms. "I'm on a date."

"Oh yeah," he said, turning back to his glass. "Soft toy boy."

"He's 35."

"I stand corrected -soft toy _man_. Where is this sensitive, mystery guy?"

As if he wanted to know.

She tipped her head, indicating a booth in the far corner. "Would you like to join us?" she challenged, glaring at him.

"Okay," he said, returning the glare and bluffing right back.

She narrowed her eyes and he thought for a moment she might have had a little too much to drink, and also that she might punch him. "God, you're such an ass."

He watched her walk away through the crowd, back to her booth. He could just make her out, looking as if she was making her excuses to leave to her invisible man. Probably saying she was feeling unwell. She raised a hand in protest. Probably saying she was fine, truly, she didn't need a lift home, thanks anyway. You stay here; I'll be okay, really.

Then Jack's eyes trailed her, watching her leave. Alone.

Considering he hadn't planned any of this, he was feeling rather smug and allowed himself a small smirk as he hunched over his glass. He didn't want to know what this James guy looked like, so he kept his eyes on either his beer or the television.

Some things really are best left unknown.

Xx--

Samantha couldn't believe that the date could have gone so wrong. After Central Park, she'd phoned James on his cell phone and insisted that they set a day and time for dinner and stop using work as an excuse. James had laughed and denied he'd ever done that, and Samantha hadn't been in the mood to recognise that she was just as guilty in that department. It had all been set for Wednesday evening –drinks near her office, then dinner. No excuses this time around.

So much for that.

She'd forgotten to factor in the outside chance of Jack Malone turning up, out of the blue, at the same damn bar.

Samantha had been keeping away from him like the plague at work for three days, so she could actually be in a James frame of mind. James deserved that much at least.

She had been having a pleasant time until she had looked up and seen Jack, leaning against the bar, as casual as anything. No way could she could she concentrate with him there, and she knew that the evening was over.

Poor James never knew what had happened.

And Jack would have had no idea about how much he had upset her.

Xx--

Late the next morning, Jack came out of the break room with a fresh brew in his FBI mug and walked right into someone.

"Hey!" he said, nearly spilling his coffee onto himself. He looked up at the offender, only to keep looking upwards at a very tall, fair haired guy armed with an outrageously large bunch of flowers.

"Sorry about that," the tall man offered.

Jack looked from him to the young intern he was with, an enquiring look on his face.

"Sorry sir, this is Detective James Alexander from the NYPD –he's here to see Agent Spade."

Jack took a renewed, horrified look at the man; at least his hands were full with files and the mug, so he couldn't shake hands with him. "I'll take it from here, thanks," he said, dismissing the intern. "I'm Jack Malone, Samantha's boss," he said, coolly.

James raised his eyebrows and smiled. "Oh, right, pleased to meet you."

"Samantha's not here at the moment, she's out in the field working a case; they would have told you that at reception."

James looked sheepish. "Well, I wanted to surprise her and since I can't, I thought I'd like to see where she worked. I spoke to an Agent Johnson and she said it was okay to come up. I've never had any real reason to come up here before, and I thought I could put these-" he gestured with the flowers, "-on her desk."

Jack glanced at the bouquet. _Good grief… _He tipped his head down the corridor. "Follow me," and he led James to the bullpen.

Vivian was there, getting ready to leave and join her colleagues for some interviewing. Having acted as an escort, Jack passed James on to her. Watching as they shook hands and introduced themselves to each other, Jack decided to hover, feigning interest in the whiteboard's current timeline.

"You said she wasn't feeling well last night?" Vivian asked, carrying on their conversation from the earlier phone call from reception, while James put the flowers on Samantha's desk.

He nodded. "Yes, she left quite abruptly, said it was something she must have eaten. She didn't return any of my calls later that night, either," James said, hoping for some more information from Vivian.

Jack nearly snorted, seeing right through him.

Vivian nodded as if in sympathy, not wanting to give excuses. "She may be some time. I'll tell her you came in when I see her shortly."

"Thanks, I'd appreciate that. She must be feeling better if she's at work today."

Vivian smiled, sphinx-like, wondering what could have caused Samantha to end a date with him. James seemed perfectly nice and easy on the eye. She glanced over at Jack, wondering if he had anything to do with it; it always seemed to come back to him, she was sure.

Jack was now openly staring at James, coffee and files forgotten, trying to think of a category for him –_schmuck_ came to mind.

To which he added further: _Big, gangly_ _schmuck_.

Of course he detested him on sight. He didn't know him. Didn't want to know him either. Like that Eric Keller.

He also knew, in the back of his mind, that Samantha had had to move on and have her own life, and he'd pushed her down that path -even though he'd had little choice in doing it. He couldn't blame Martin in the long run for anything involving Samantha either –but other guys were fair game to hate. The trick was not to show it, and he was good at that.

_Damn it -did he have to be so tall?_

Xx--

A short time later, Vivian joined Samantha after questioning some suspects at the premises of Edward Conway, a missing doctor. There had been a lot of interviews and Samantha was tired, so they walked outside to get some fresh air. Vivian bought her a coffee and briefed her on the morning visit.

"So, a big bunch of flowers, eh?" Samantha asked, curious, as they moved into some shade.

Smiling as she opened a can of soda, Vivian said, "Yeah, both he and Jack could have hidden behind it."

"Jack met him?" Samantha managed to keep the surprise out of her voice.

Vivian nodded. "Nearly got drenched in coffee from bumping into James from what I heard. Jack seemed to like him; he stayed while we chatted."

_Oh. Great. _Samantha swallowed some coffee.Why did what Jack thought always seem so important to her –even after all this time?

Vivian inspected at a fingernail. "Do you think Jack's okay?"

"Why do you ask?'

"It's just the last week or so, he's been rather quiet."

"No more than usual. I can't say I've noticed, he's usually in his office anyway," Samantha said, knowing precisely why.

"It's just that Danny was asking me. He thought something was up with you two," Vivian said deliberately, fishing.

"Really?" Samantha said carefully, taking a sip from her cup while she thought rapidly. "Nothing to tell. He's probably concerned about his girls these days." Thankfully her phone rang. It was Danny and she listened as he spoke. Putting her phone away she turned to Vivian. "Something's come up; I've got to get back to the office. Danny and Martin will brief you where and who we're up to. And thanks for the coffee."

Vivian nodded -not entirely satisfied with the answers she had gotten- and went to find the guys.

Xx--

Jack returned to his office and found Samantha waiting for him in a chair. He had no choice but to sit behind his desk.

"What's up?" he asked neutrally, pulling a file towards him and opening it. He could feel her eyes on him as he pretended to scan its contents.

"You finished the phone and credit check on the Conway case?" she asked, knowing full well he had.

"Yes, I let Danny know about half an hour ago; it's on his desk."

"I specifically needed to be told about it."

"You were in the field."

"So was Danny."

"Nothing stood out. I told Danny to tell you. I didn't want to bother you."

There may not have been anything there, but that wasn't the point. "You should have."

He finally looked at her, holding her gaze longer than necessary. "Yes," he finally conceded. "I should have."

It was the most eye contact they'd had since the unintentional meeting at the bar the previous evening and certainly since Central Park on the weekend.

He broke away first. "Was there something else?" he asked, hoping against hope there wasn't, while shuffling some papers on his desk.

But Samantha wasn't leaving any time soon. She pursed her lips, thinking. "Is this what it's going to be like between us?" she asked, quietly. He looked back at her, saying nothing. "We can talk about... it." He looked down at his hands, then back at her. "Jack…" she practically pleaded.

There was no getting out of it, this time.

"Not here," he said suddenly, in a flat tone.

Samantha blinked at this swift agreement. "Your place?"

He was surprised at the suggestion. "No -and not your apartment either."

"A restaurant then."

Jack hadn't been planning on something so formal sounding, but he acquiesced. "I'll ask Stevie to stay and look after the girls. They're going to be packing for their holiday tonight so I can't stay long. I'll meet you at _Lisi's_, after work." A small home style Italian place; they'd been there before with the team, but never just the two of them. Samantha knew their pastries well.

"Be there," she said in a voice that implied he'd better not even consider avoiding her.

Tbc

Xx—


	6. Chez Lisi

**A/N:** Sorry for the shortness of this chapter, but if I didn't post this, it may have been an even longer wait while I got the other scenes organised... Big huggable thanks toMariel for being so helpful and speedy, and toSamantha for being a wee helpful treasure. Is there something about Canada no-one's telling me about?

* * *

**Chapter Six**

**Chez Lisi**

Xx—

One good thing about _Lisi's_ was that it was always popular, and the ambient atmosphere was rowdy enough to have an intimate conversation. For a meal or just a drink, it was always welcoming.

Jack was sitting in a booth, surveying the incoming after-work crowd. He'd wanted a table, but knew Samantha would prefer this. Being technically still on call, he'd ordered a club soda, loosened his tie and was watching the ice melt; wondering if he should order something for Samantha, and wondering if that would be presumptuous; he would probably get it wrong; he'd always known what she'd wanted in the past, but that was a long time ago. Times change. People change.

He'd watched Samantha leave his office after her ultimatum; he'd known he couldn't have gotten out of this, even if he'd wanted to; he'd had to give in -but he honestly didn't know what she would be like. The lack of knowledge had made him anxious.Wondering if talking to someone might help, Jack had gotten out of his chair and had been halfway to Dr. Harris' office before he realized that wasn't where he wanted to be

_Lisa, you might be interested to learn about the outlet I used to get rid of some of those pent up feelings you were concerned about._

_And I possibly feel worse than I have ever felt in my entire life._

_Really, Jack? What did you do exactly?_

No. Lisa was not the person to speak to.

There are some conversations you really couldn't have.

So he sat, waiting for Samantha, his foot tapping the floor fretfully.

Xx—

Samantha had gone back to the team at Conway's office and continued the interviews. Around three o'clock, while they'd been discussing leads, or rather, lack of them, Jack had phoned Vivian about a John Doe that had been admitted to a small emergency clinic some way upstate. It had sounded like a strong promising lead, and Vivian hadn't needed to draw straws as Martin had eagerly said he'd make the drive alone. Vivian had decided they should still keep investigating but go back to the bullpen to work out their next step.

Around 4.50pm they had been staring at the timeline and a map of New York State when Jack came to the bullpen and announced he'd be heading out -as there was nothing else he could do while they were waiting for Martin to make contact. About fifteen minutes later, Samantha had made an excuse too; Danny had looked at the flowers, now sitting colorfully in a vase at the end of Samantha's desk. "Catching up with James?"

Samantha had smiled thinly, remembering she hadn't phoned him to say thank you and not feeling up to lie. "No actually, just some things to do. I won't be long." She hadn't caught the look Danny and Vivian had shot at each other when she'd left.

She was more than a little flustered when she reached the restaurant. Seeing Jack nursing a soda, she ordered the same before she went to sit down, opening lines going through her head.

_So, Jack, I've heard of sex with the ex, but I think four years later exceeds the time limit…_

She made herself comfortable in the booth while he watched. He then returned his attention to the condensation trickling down the side of his glass.

_What _was_ that the other day, Jack? 'Wham bam, thank you, Sam'?_

She decided that these were too facetious and not what she'd want to use to open the conversation.

Jack waited for her to begin.

She didn't know where to start.

So she didn't.

Jack waited.

And waited.

Her silence was deafening in the noisy restaurant.

He'd been looking at his glass, his hands, and the table top. Now he looked up at her. She was sitting with her eyebrows raised expectantly.

Her fingers started to tap the edge of the table. A waiter delivered her club soda and she thanked him.

Jack cleared his throat. "You wanted to talk…" he ventured.

She nodded, but wasn't drawn to say anything.

Knowing he'd have to instigate the conversation, Jack took a big breath. "I never counted on this."

She just looked at him, wondering where this was heading.

"Any of it."

There was still no reaction from her.

"I never thought that this is where we'd end up."

"And where is that, Jack?" Samantha asked quietly.

Moving his glass to one side off the coaster, he picked the square piece of cardboard and stared vacantly at the restaurant's logo while he thought.

_Miserable. _

_Angry. _

_Lost_.

_The only good thing in my life these days are my girls. You were once one of those things, but I messed that up too._

Putting the coaster back down, he looked at his wedding ring; still stuck on his finger to appease Hanna and Kate. God, he wished he could just throw it far, far away. "I don't know," he murmured.

Samantha's expression softened. "What happened to us? We've been colleagues, friends as well as…you know," she said. "But now, I feel it's all gone. We never seem to be in the right place or right time together anymore."

Jack rubbed his eyes. "I've apologised and you've accepted it. You say it's okay. I say it's not. I know you must hate me, but not as much as I hate myself."

_The last thing on my mind actually._ "I don't hate you, Jack."

He was quite surprised at that. "Not even after… not even after what I did?"

"No, I'm probably more confused than anything else, I suppose… Certainly disappointed… I just want to know: what's gotten into you?"

Jack sighed, thinking about some of the things that could have possibly brought him to where he was at that moment in time; wondering where and how it all began. Maybe it had been the moment Samantha's file hit his desk; when she walked in for her interview; the late nights and hours with his job, coupled with the emotional toll that kept him away from his family; the growing indifference from Maria. "I don't know -I really don't."

He would have liked to have blamed Maria for everything, but to be fair he wasn't even sure he could do that. It all came down to him in the end; his decisions, his choices.

His cell phone rang; it was Martin. It was a positive identification on Conway. Jack was relieved, as always, and gave Samantha a thumbs-up. "Try and find out how he got up there, stay over if need be, I'll tell the others… Good job, by the way; it's a long road trip," he said, not knowing how far Martin would drive to try and wrangle more painkillers. He then phoned Vivian and Danny, still at the office, to pass on the good news, and added he'd inform Samantha.

Who couldn't resist a smile at the deception. "Seems like old times."

Jack snorted despite himself. "Almost." Glad for the phone call and the missing person found, and gladder still that he'd survived their initial conversation, Jack felt like a small weight had been lifted."Well, we're off the hook," he said, smiling for possibly the first time that day. "To hell with this club soda –you want something stronger?"

"I could kill for a glass of red."

"I'll join you in one," he said, noting that some things hadn't changed after all. He gestured for a waiter to take the order.

They hadn't quite resolved anything, but she didn't hate him, which was good. He wondered what he could do about what he'd done, and how to make it up to her. But then, she was with James, which wasn't so good.

And he couldn't do anything about that.

The glasses of wine arrived promptly, and they each took a deep mouthful.

It was Samantha's turn to examine her hands, bringing the conversation around again. "We've always been able to talk; it was one of the things we had that was special." She looked up at him. "I miss that."

He nodded in agreement. "Once upon a time… You've moved on with your life. I just seem to be stagnating, or moving backwards –it certainly feels that way."

"I wish I could help you there." As much as she wanted to, she couldn't.

"That's okay –it seems everyone leaves me in the end. That prick Scoggins was right, you know -he said that. Look at my mother; look at Maria. Not only did Maria leave me, take the girls, and divorce me -she's dead."

"It wasn't her decision, Jack," Samantha said, unknowingly echoing Jack's own words to Kate. "She didn't kill herself. Be reasonable." _Dear God, I'm defending Maria…_

"She left me," he reiterated. "In every possible way."

"You left me."

He looked at her tenderly. "It was a hard choice to make." _One of the hardest…_

Wondering what his answer would be, she looked him directly in the eyes and asked the question: "Given another chance, knowing the outcome -would you still have done it?"

_Given a second chance and knowing what I know now..._ Jack distracted himself with his glass stem to evade the question; there really was no point in answering it; what's done was done. Samantha was right though, about how they used to be able to talk –what had happened to that? "You were fine with Martin, weren't you?"

Samantha let a deep sigh out as she considered this. "Not really. I tried –I thought. But it was all wrong. Perhaps we wouldn't have been able to work together if we'd had stronger feelings for each other." It sounded strange coming out of her mouth. She'd managed to work with Jack, after all; she'd felt a hell of a lot more for him, and still did. She looked out at the busy restaurant, watching the clientele; there was a couple immediately to their left at a table; the man holding the woman's hand as she spoke, clear adoration in his eyes. "At least he said he loved me. That was something, I guess," she reflected.

Jack had been examining her face as she spoke; her head tipped back against the booth, her hair tied back. How he knew every pore, every freckle -those laugh lines she probably still hated and he'd loved when he made her laugh. He knew her face so well, probably better than his own.

"I doubt Martin ever loved you as much as I did." Jack said, almost to himself.

Samantha turned her head back to look at him, dumbstruck.

Jack refocused on his drink, suddenly embarrassed at his admission. He risked a look at her face. She was looking away again.

"You never told me that…"

He frowned. "Surely you knew it?"

_How could she not?_

_Hadn't I been obvious at the time?_

"You never said it… You took long enough to tell me you were separated… Why would you ever tell me you loved me?" She was getting more upset as she spoke, her voice quavering. She looked back at him. "You loved me… once," she stated, as if trying the words out. She knew it was one of the truest things he'd ever said to her. "That's the saddest thing someone could ever say."

"Why's that?"

"The past tense -it sounds so… final. That they loved someone once, and now, it's… gone." She simply had to know: "Is it really gone, Jack?"

Jack wanted to reach across the table to her -tell her it had never truly gone, never would go, even though he tried to hide it away- but he kept his hands clasped around his glass. Now it was his turn to look away.

"You never told me."

"About …?" Samantha asked, at a loss. And here he was dodging yet another question.

"You and Martin, -the break-up."

She blinked. "There's not a lot to tell. He broke it off. You figured it out in the end," she said, taking a sip of her wine, hoping it would help her.

It was Jack's turn to be silent.

She stared at him as realisation set in. It must have been when James sent the soft toy –that damn look on Jack's face, the one she hadn't been able to figure out. "Oh Christ, Jack…" She didn't know whether to apologise or not. It was so unexpected. "I thought you knew…"

But then something occurred to her that she needed to say, which had been a small burning flame in the back of her mind for a long time. "Figured it out… Like when you walked into the bullpen and announced you were going to Chicago. That was a great heads-up for me."

"It wasn't something I felt I could discuss with you, exactly."

This time she took a large mouthful of wine, not impressed with his explanation as she swallowed it. "You could have said something. It was like a slap in the face. And then you stayed and…" _I was with Martin and I really wanted to be with you and I want to be with you now and everything's just so fucked up between us..._ She put her head in her hands. "I have no idea what we're doing, Jack. But I'm so tired of this game we play with each other. I never know which rules you're using."

"Sam-" He reached out a hand, his fingers barely touched her fingers covering her face, but she batted him away.

"No Jack, don't; I'm just worn out with it all. You just don't get it. I loved you then; I love you now. But it always has to be about you, you're always in command or making the choices. Before it was your family, your wife, and now Maria's dead and it's really still about her." She slid along the seat, getting ready to leave. "I can't help you and I'm not going to wait for you anymore."

Jack, still stunned by her disclosure about what she felt for him, looked at her, confused. "Wait for me? I never thought you were."

"Martin, James, Eric, Fred –whatever. They didn't count. Not like you."

"Well, if you want to put it like that, obviously I didn't either."

Samantha nearly threw her hands up in frustration. "Jack… When will you realize it'll never be over between us, not while we live and breathe?"

"There's nothing I can do about it."

"Can't –or won't?" she threw at him as she got up, her brown eyes brimming with tears.

Jack watched Samantha leave, ignoring the wide-eyed faces of the couple at the next table; He wondered how many more times he could possibly hurt her, and ashamed that he was so good at it.

He picked up his glass of wine and, staring at Samantha's half full one, downed it in one hit.

_tbc_

Xx—


	7. Planning Ahead

**A/N: **Huge apologies to those still sticking with this story after such a long wait, life really does get in the way sometimes... okay, all the time and having it get in the way of my fanfic is a bit of a drag, but there you go...The remark about the hyena was written some time ago, but I think it fits inquite nicely...Thanks to Inken for some helpful advice and the biggest grizzly bear hug to Mariel, because she's so great and enthusiastic.

**Disclaimer:** I did not write Season 4 of WAT, and neither did any other true fan. Someof us know what theviewers _actually_ want and try to keep ourselves happy -via fanfic!

* * *

**But Not Forgotten**

**Chapter 7 - Planning Ahead**

A distracted Jack returned home from _Lisi's_ to find the girls ankle-deep in clothes strewn around their bedroom floor and a bemused Stevie watching them from a corner. She smiled as Jack greeted the girls and then surveyed the carnage, a bewildered look on his face.

"Don't ask," she said, grinning, "this has been going on for hours."

"How hard is it to pack a suitcase of clothes, anyway?" he asked, in an amused way. "You're going away for a month but they do have a laundry there. Is this-" he indicated the mess, "-all necessary?"

'I've _only_ got three suitcases packed," Kate said proudly. "And the toys I'm taking fill up just one of them." She made it sound like a huge self-sacrifice had been made.

"How many have you got, Hanna?" Jack asked, craning his head around as he mentally added up the number of cases and bags also partially buried on the floor.

"I'm taking four," Hanna said blithely. "My clothes are only in two."

"What's in the others?"

"My Play Station, my Nintendo-"

"No electronics are going with you," Jack cut in. "You're going to the lake house on holiday, not to spend your time in front of the TV. You can live without your Play Station for once. And your grandparents have a computer there so you won't be totally out of touch."

"But what if it rains? What if the computer's broken?" whined Hanna.

"I'm sure you'll find something to do. I hear books are good for that. Two suitcases each and that's it. Your grandparents aren't taking a truck up there." Jack, the ex-military man and son of a soldier, knew how and what to pack. "And when you've finished, unpack and reduce it by a third. You've got two days to organise yourselves." They'd promised to visit Frank on Saturday morning, and Joyce and Mick were coming over early Sunday morning to pick them up. Jack had a feeling the packing was going to be this chaotic and was glad he'd made them organise themselves early.

Hanna threw a pair of shorts on her bed. "Mom would have let us take what we wanted," she pouted.

Jack looked at his daughter, suddenly deflated. "I think even she would have drawn the line on this one…" he said, gently. "You could take some board games with you." He knew Mick and Joyce's propensity for dull card games; he needed to save them from that, at least.

Kate brightened. "Candy Land!"

"Aren't you too old for that?" sniped Hanna, not in a good mood at being thwarted.

"Hanna…" Stevie said in a warning tone.

Kate smiled cheerfully, immune as always to her older sister's temper. "I just like it. We can take Clue, too; Dad won't be there to win."

"That's a good idea," Hanna conceded. They'd banned Jack from playing it with them some time ago; he'd always uncannily worked out who the murderer was early on in the game, even when he wasn't trying.

Jack smiled and left them all to it. He made his way to his bedroom to change out of his work clothes. Pulling his tie off, his thoughts went back to Samantha and what she'd said, bits of their earlier conversation kept coming back to him.

_Does she really still have all those feelings for me?_

He was almost overwhelmed by it all and didn't quite know what to do. His reaction hadn't helped much either. Sometimes he really wanted to kick himself.

_Wasn't she dating that James guy? It had to be serious, surely._

He sat on the edge of the bed to unlace his shoes.

_But from what she said, apparently not._

He took off his socks, and threw them in the corner. He stared at where they'd landed, rubbing the back of his neck as he thought.

_However, she said she wasn't going to wait for me anymore…_

It was pointless, even if it were true. He'd screwed up again. There had been too many conflicting emotions in one conversation, in such a short space of time.

He decided he wasn't worth it. If he did try something, it would be doubtful she'd have anything to do with him, even if he crawled across hot coals to her.

_Never in the right time or the right place, she said_.

He shook his head, pessimistically.

_Got that right._

_Christ, I'm hopeless…_

Not happy with his train of thought, he hauled himself off the bed and decided to concentrate on the girls instead. After changing into a t-shirt and cargo pants, he headed to the kitchen where Stevie had been concocting something that smelled flavorsome. She found him opening pot lids on the stove top and investigating the contents.

"This looks good," he complimented her, and then tried a spoonful of a chunky sauce –it appeared that Stevie was experimenting with Moroccan again. How she ever talked the girls into trying her exotic meals he could never figure out. He nodded approvingly. "And it tastes even better. Are you staying with us for dinner?"

She shook her head, but was pleased with his reaction to her latest creation. "Not tonight, things to plan. Now, you remember I have to be away tomorrow at 5.30 on the dot for Mom's birthday dinner?"

"Yes, it should be okay," Jack hedged, knowing it might not if they had a case, but he'd figure something out. "You'll see the girls before they leave on Sunday? They'd like that."

"Yeah, maybe on Saturday afternoon, when you're back from your father's… And just so you know, I spoke to Joyce today, to let her know about Hanna's periods, and that I've made sure Hanna's taking enough supplies."

"What did Joyce think of that?" Jack asked, thinking how honestly thrilled Joyce would be about her eldest granddaughter's news. She'd probably be planning Hanna's debutante ball next.

Stevie rolled her eyes; she knew what Joyce was like and what Jack would think. "Oh, she knew all about it already -from Maria."

Jack sighed deeply as he rinsed the spoon

_Of course._

_How stupid of me not to guess that…_

Xx—

_Samantha Spade -Drama queen._

Samantha thought about this as she leaned against her kitchen counter, eating re-heated, days-old Chinese take-out.

Perhaps she should get a t-shirt printed up with that emblazoned across the front. Or take out a page in the _NY Times_ and announce it to the world. As if the world didn't know it already.

After all, she had walked out on two men, in two public places, on two consecutive nights.

And for entirely different reasons.

How very, very over the top.

And had she really said that? About how she loved him, and how it would never be over?

_Good grief…_

And he'd said _that _to her.

That he'd loved her.

Not exactly in those words, but close enough. She'd always thought it; suspected it; known it, somehow - and she'd always wished he could have committed those words verbally to her at the time. It was the past tense he'd used that felt so wrong. She wondered if he still felt anything for her now –aside from the sex the other day, which didn't really count…

She stabbed a piece of sad broccoli and chewed it mindlessly, before deciding to ditch the remains in the trash. She stood in her apartment, wondering what to do with herself. It was only just after seven. Still early.

A lonely night at home -which was weird when she was supposed to be dating James.

Another lonely night watching crap on television.

The real life of a single woman in New York, she thought –so much for _Sex and the City, _it was made on a different planet with alien characters. Then she checked herself; she was supposed to be dating James.

She glanced at the phone, wishing it to ring -wishing it was Jack; wishing she had the guts to ring Jack. She was _supposed _to wish it was James.

Maybe popcorn would help. She returned to the kitchen.

After getting herself organised on the sofa with a big bowl of salty, buttery hot popped goodness, Samantha found she barely had the energy to put on a DVD, so she sat watching some reality show that grated her nerves.

She really wanted to ring Jack, have a go at him some more while she was still angry at herself, but it would be pointless in the end; his game, his rules. And she really had to talk to James. She still hadn't thanked him for the flowers and she might as well put an end to the charade of this 'relationship' they were having and she couldn't be bothered making the effort to be 'just friends'.

Samantha had guessed she'd have to end it when she saw Jack in the bar. She'd been disturbed that he could still have that effect on her; it wasn't fair on James, stringing him along, waiting for some real feeling to emerge. Maybe it was time for Sam Spade to be single again. A life right now without Jack was probably better than pretending to have one with someone else, and she had to face it –he was why every man so far just hadn't worked out.

Even though Jack was still hands-off, in her mind. Confused as it was.

But… why was she heading in that direction –away from him? Why couldn't they be together? She said she couldn't help him; maybe she could. Surely he must feel something for her still -discounting the frantic sex- there must nevertheless be real feelings there.

It had happened the moment she heard Maria was dead. Something clicked in her mind. Something about going back to a former lover when the wife was out of the way was one thing; going back to them after the wife was dead was another. It smacked of opportunism. It wasn't her fault Maria had died. It wasn't her fault she loved Jack. Why in her own mind did she think he was off limits -because of what people would think? As if that mattered…

He'd been so wrong thinking he didn't matter because of the other men she'd seen after him. It was because he _did_ matter so much to her, and God knows she'd tried to move on.

Turning the TV off, she stared out the window. Jack wouldn't try anything with James hanging around and she'd already decided to break up with him. Maybe she needed to be single to get the message across to Jack.

It was making sense –in a weird way- but it was worth a try.

Time to change the rules.

Hauling herself off the sofa, she phoned James' home phone, hoping like hell he wasn't there and she could leave a message that it was over.

Cowardly –yes, but she'd done it before to one or two others. It was better than a 'Dear John' email or text message, and the chances of James being on duty were pretty good. She found herself actually hoping he wasn't being exclusive, maybe he'd been going out with someone else. That would make her feel strangely better.

The phone rang four times before it clicked onto the answering machine. Samantha allowed herself a small, thankful smile before she spoke.

Xx—

Friday was a quiet day –no cases, just catching up. Martin arrived on time after his jaunt upstate, looking very happy and relaxed. Jack and Samantha were polite when they had to deal with each other, and got on with their work - anything to fill in the day. Oddly, it was as though they'd never met the previous evening at all; never said what they'd said to each other - and never decided what to do about it.

Samantha was happy that James hadn't called her. It looked like he'd got the message, in all senses of the word. Poor guy –he was probably relieved to have escaped so lightly. Still, there were other matters -she was still feeling a little embarrassed at baring her soul at Jack like that, to no avail.

Jack was having difficulty concentrating on anything for too long. His thoughts were mainly being sidetracked by the fact that he was going to have to get used to a lonely house again with his girls gone, and about Samantha.

A quiet day –which meant something had to happen.

Around 4.40 Jack quickly strode into the bullpen, his cell phone to his ear, a worried look on his face. "Yes, yes, just hang on a minute…" he said, focussing on Vivian. She looked up at him curiously, along with the other members of the team seated at their prospective desks.

Jack lowered his voice, putting the cell phone against his chest. "Viv, I'm in a real bind again and I hate to ask… but I just found out my dad's not well and I have to go see him and the doctors. Stevie's already arranged to be off at 5.30 and can't look after the girls. Are you free tonight and –well- now?" He looked at her beseechingly.

Vivian shook her head. "Bad timing Jack –I'm sorry, but we've got something on at Reggie's school."

Jack's face fell. _Shit. _He hadn't thought of a plan B, and wondered if he was almost desperate enough to ask Anne and Max… Knowing she was as motherly as a hyena, it wasn't something he had ever wanted to seriously ponder. But desperate times called for desperate measures. "Okay, thanks anyway…"

"I'll do it."

Vivian and Jack both turned and stared at Samantha, surprised.

Which was nothing compared to the surprise Samantha felt at herself. "I've got nothing planned, and I'm free."

She could actually feel the astonished looks that Martin and Danny were giving her.

Jack recovered. "You haven't got anything planned with-" _that tall, gawky guy…_

"I'm free," Samantha re-emphasized, further throwing herself into the fire, "and I'm happy to help you out." _After all, in this case, I'm just officially helping out my boss… a friend -right?_

_Right?_

"Well, that solves that, doesn't it Jack?" said Vivian, eyebrows raised, amazed at Samantha's volunteering.

Dumbfounded, Jack could only nod his head.

It was a done deal.

Xx--

After checking in on the sleeping girls, Jack found Samantha, curled up on his sofa. She looked peaceful, oblivious to the world. Resisting the urge to touch her hair, he spoke softly. "Sam." She didn't stir. He tapped her on the shoulder. "Sam?"

"Mm?"

"It's me." He said, sitting down heavily in an armchair.

Samantha rubbed her eyes, tiredly. "Oh... hey... What time is it?"

"About 11. You were out like a light."

"So you decided to wake me. Thanks for that... I suppose I should get going," she said, moving herself into an upright position.

"The girls were fine?"

Samantha smiled in a smug way. "It was a nice night. We bonded over doing our nails. Don't blame me if you don't like the shade of nail polish they used."

Jack wasn't too tired to blink at that. "What...? Oh, never mind, it's not like I'd be doing that with them." _Probably ever_.

"How's your father? Is he all right?"

Jack sighed. "He's refusing dialysis; the Alzheimer's isn't helping things either." It had been a very long, fraught meeting; Frank had become quite distressed. "I'm not sure what to do; if he doesn't have it soon, he'll most likely die." He looked at her as he spoke, and noted one of her earrings was crooked from her lying down.

Samantha frowned at this. "Is there anything you can do?"

Jack waved a hand hopelessly. "Aside from a court order or doing it at gunpoint –not a lot. He was complaining that he didn't get to see the girls often, and that's pretty much my fault. We'd planned to go see him tomorrow anyway, maybe that will help."

"I hope so Jack, I really do."

Even though the circumstances were less than perfect, Jack found he was enjoying having Samantha there. An almost normal conversation, with no agendas. She smiled at him in a sympathetic way and returned her gaze to the room. He continued to watch her, yet again wondering how everything had fallen apart between them.

_Time to make some amends._

"Sam, I want to apologise for last night –at the restaurant."

Her smile became more of a sad one, and she turned her attention to an invisible spot on her trouser leg. "I'm sorry too. I was a little over the top." _Like on I was on Mount Everest._

"You wanted to talk and I just… I don't know –didn't help matters."

She looked over at him. He looked so tired and worn out she just wanted to go over and hold him in her arms, run her hands through his hair and whisper in his ear that everything would work out with his father.

Jack continued. "If you were over the top Sam, it's only because I pushed you."

"Some things… some things, I really meant."

He smiled at her, captivated by her beauty in the soft light, as always. "Me too."

She held his gaze a moment longer and then, remembering it was late: "I need a cab."

Jack nodded, wishing the spell hadn't broken. "I'll take care of it for you."

Samantha waited while he dialled; taking another look around the apartment, glancing at all the pictures of Maria that seemed to be about. _Bet he didn't have much say in that…_

Jack noticed what she was doing and thought he would relieve her from Maria's stare; he was fairly immune to it these days. Hanging up, he said, "Why don't we wait outside? It's a nice night. Shouldn't be too long."

Samantha smiled and gathered her things before being ushered through the front door.

It was warm outside, but pleasant. The street was fairly quiet for a Friday night. They stood waiting on the steps; Jack with hands in pockets, Samantha looking at her feet.

"Thank you for tonight," Jack said quietly, looking over at her.

"No problems. I had fun."

"Really -you're not just saying that?"

"Really. They're nice girls. It must be hard for them."

Jack felt he had to ask: "Did they talk about their mother at all?"

Samantha shook her head. "Not much. They barely know me and I wouldn't expect them to. I wouldn't mind helping you out again sometime."

He faced her, taken aback. "That's… very nice of you."

She was looking at him in such a way that he thought for a moment everything would be all right between them and always had been.

With his free hand he reached up and straightened the crooked earring.

Samantha gasped as she felt his fingers against her earlobe, brushing against her jaw. His lips hinted a smile at her reaction. His fingers trailed along her jaw line a moment, the merest feather-light touch, before he dropped them. Samantha's skin had tingled at the contact, and she wondered how he could make her breathless with just one little gesture.

"Sam, I-" he softly started, before noticing a cab pulling up to the curb. He cleared his throat, and changed tact. "I probably won't be in on Monday –if anything happens with Dad, it'll have to be at the hospital then."

Samantha nodded, wondered where he might have been going. "I'm sure it'll all be okay."

Jack smiled. "I hope so."

They held each other's gaze comfortably.

Suddenly a voice rang out from the street: "Jack!"

Startled, Jack turned to see someone hauling a suitcase out of the taxi.

_What the fuck…_

"Anne…?"

tbc


	8. Q and A

A/N: Thank you to Diane and Sam for some butt-kicking, a big hug to Inken for some excellent story sense and as always amega-thanks to Mariel for helping me with the final polish. Without you guys, I'd be still staring at the screen faffing about. And Trish? Just bear with me, I know I've been a bad email buddy, so I hope you like some anti-ACKness...

* * *

Chapter Eight

_Q and A_

Xx--

"Anne –what are you doing here?" Jack asked as he hurried the few steps to the cab and tried to stop this before it went any further. Just as surprised as Jack was, Sam stayed where she was. She wondered if this was a regular occurrence.

"Hello there, yourself," Anne smiled broadly, then she reached into the cab to get a smaller bag. Jack put a restraining hand on the taxi's roof, far from happy.

"Hold everything. What are you doing?"

She looked at him as if this was the dumbest question in the world. "I've left Max and thought I would stay over," she stated. "I didn't think you'd mind helping out an old friend for a short while."

Jack stared at her; she'd obviously forgotten -or chosen to forget, more likely- the last time she had come over late at night. Maybe it had been the alcohol then; she seemed sober at this precise moment in time.

Anne let out an exasperated sigh. "I left a message on your cell phone." Like that made all the difference in the world.

"I didn't get it," Jack said coldly. He'd glanced at his phone on the way home from his father's, and had seen there'd been a message from her but had decided to ignore it –obviously to his peril. "The girls are still here, so there's no room."

Anne frowned –clearly this was not part of her plan. "I thought they'd be on their holiday by now." Anne hadn't seen the girls for years, since they were toddlers. Even Maria had said it was strange, the way Anne always made sure they all went out to a restaurant as a foursome or avoided invites to the Malone household, asking them to come over to their place instead and maybe a baby sitter would be a good idea? Maria had caustically said she thought Anne was allergic to children. Jack had agreed, reckoning she was one hundred percent correct in that evaluation. "But I don't take up much room. The sofa will be fine."

"This is really not a good time for me-" Jack began.

The taxi driver, having been paid, was getting irritable. "Hey buddy," he said to Jack, who still had his hand still on the roof. "D'you mind?"

"Let the man go, Jack," Anne said in a way that was light-hearted but tinged with a steely undertone. It was a combination only she seemed to be able to carry off and it had always made Jack feel uneasy.

Since he obviously wasn't going to easily persuade Anne to get back into the taxi and leave, Jack complied and the taxi sped off. Jack made no move towards his apartment, however.

"What's she doing here?" Anne asked, staring over at Samantha, as if she had only just noticed her. Samantha stared unabashedly back, wondering where her own cab was.

And wishing it would hurry up.

"_Samantha _looked after the girls for me this evening… Anne, you can't stay here, and more to the point -where's Max?"

"At home, where I left him," she said, as if this happened all the time.

Another taxi pulled up and Samantha wasted no time in getting over to it. Jack was torn between seeing her off and stopping the barbarian at the gate. He felt the minute he turned his back on Anne she'd be up the steps in a flash.

Samantha just wanted to get the hell away from whatever the situation was that Jack had gotten himself into; she could tell he didn't want Anne staying over; she also knew he was big enough to look after himself.

But he might need a little help…

She turned towards Jack. "Just before I go –that case of diarrhea Kate had earlier, it hasn't _quite_ gone away, so you'll have to keep checking on her, and you may need to change the sheets again."

She enjoyed seeing Anne's nose wrinkle up in repugnance.

Catching on quickly, Jack nodded. "You think Hanna might have caught it too?"

Samantha shrugged as she got in the taxi. "I hope not for your sake, Jack. See you Tuesday, and good night Agent Cassidy," she said pointedly, before the cab whisked her away.

Jack watched her go, before returning his attention to the problem standing in front of him.

Anne was watching him, then she shrugged. Plainly not thwarted, she half-heartedly said, "It's okay. I'm sure I can help out… in some way…"

_Damn._

"Look, Anne, this is not the time, or the place for any of this."

She put her hands on her hips. "Well, where do you expect me to go? You said that if I ever needed any help, you'd be there for me."

_For crying out loud woman, don't you have any other friends in this city?_

"I am, but not just at this moment in time. I've got my father having health problems, the girls need to be organised-"

"Yes, and I'm sure Samantha's been helping you out quite nicely as well," she said waspishly, narrowing her eyes.

Before Jack could come back with a suitably nasty reply, Max was running up the street: "Anne!"

Jack nearly breathed a loud sigh of relief. Soon, this soap opera could be over with.

Anne looked at him, a plain look of irritation on her face. "Go home, Max."

Max came to a standstill, puffing a bit from his short run from where he parked the car; he was obviously still recovering from his gunshot wound. "Come on, come home." He glanced over at Jack. "Sorry about this."

Jack shook his head. "You guys have some serious sorting out to do, and Anne can't keep turning up on my doorstep like this."

"Yeah," agreed Max. "But you'll have to tell me why she keeps doing that." He threw Jack a look that said he'd be following that up.

_Because, Max, she's freaked out by your whole shooting/affair thing, and I listened to her problems. _

_Because she's possibly unstable._

Jack shrugged and gave him a blank look. "Damned if I know."

"Excuse me? I am right here you know," Anne pointed out.

Max picked up Anne's bags. "Come on, let's go; Jack has better things to do. We can sort this out. The car's just down the road."

"No," stated Anne coldly, arms folded.

Max's tone was quiet and kind, but Jack could tell he was clenching his teeth. "Anne, be reasonable. You never give me a chance to talk."

Anne's tight mouth dropped open. "Talk -_now_ you want to talk? I'm always trying to get you to talk and you go into some cone of silence-"

Having had enough, Jack felt he had to escape. "Look, you two can stay out here all night but I'm going inside. I have daughters to look after. Good night," and without further ado, he set off back to his apartment, hoping that any ensuing yelling wouldn't wake the neighbourhood.

He was far beyond caring about what happened in Anne and Max's marriage anymore; they'd worn him down, and Anne was taking too much for granted. His own marriage had had enough slanging matches that he didn't need to re-experience anymore.

He slammed the door to the building a little harder than he should have as he reminded himself never to play marriage counsellor again.

It was too nerve-wracking.

Xx—

The next day, after spending time with the girls, Stevie made herself a cup of coffee and went to sit with Jack in the living room.

"So…" she ventured. "This morning, how did the visit with the girls go -your father was okay?"

Jack smiled as he finished his own coffee. He was actually relieved beyond words. "The girls were great with him. Dad was articulate and didn't go off on too many nostalgia trips; we had a really nice time."

They'd taken Frank out for a short walk in the sunshine and the girls had made a fuss of him. Kate had painted a picture for him and Hanna had made a card on the computer. They hadn't been asked, but Jack felt maybe Stevie had done some nudging. Nevertheless, he was pleased with them and their attitude. It had given Frank a shot of life and when Jack tried the question about dialysis again, Frank had looked affectionately at the two girls, who were looking through old photo albums at the table, and had finally agreed to the treatment. Jack had phoned the doctor immediately.

"It's all arranged for Monday, but I may see about him having some hospital care on Sunday –just to keep an eye on him."

Stevie nodded, gently sipping her coffee. "How long does this dialysis thing take?"

"Usually about three hours, although I hear treatments overseas last for about five hours, and is all the better for it. I might see what I can do. Treatment three times a week is fairly standard."

Stevie furrowed her brow. "That's a long time for someone with Alzheimer's to stay in one place. Are you going to strap him down or something?"

It had been playing heavily on Jack's mind. The idea of Frank in restraints, in case of injury to himself during some point in the treatment, wasn't a good one, but he had a plan. "Well, I know you've been grumbling about the sudden drop in income with the girls away-"

Stevie grimaced. "Yeah, I may have to get a real job, and I've decided I need an iPod."

Jack was surprised at this; she wasn't the materialistic type at all. "Need? I thought you were saving for your overseas travel?"

"Well, yeah, but you know… Europe, trains, buses, long rides, I need some entertainment, I _need_ my music -and reading in motion makes me nauseous."

Jack nodded, a smile playing on his lips. "I think I can help you out there, and you can help me." He stood up. "Back in a second," and he went to the girls' room, poking his head around the door. "Anyone here want to go shopping to buy something for Stevie?" he asked.

Being female and their mother's daughters to boot, there was resounding cry of "Yes!"

Xx--

Sunday morning, and Jack was feeling more than a little lost as he stood in his empty apartment. He had known it would happen; had known he'd feel this way… but it had been barely ten minutes since they'd been gone and already the long month ahead without his daughters loomed in front of him. He was missing them like crazy already.

Again.

Maria's parents hadn't been kidding when they had said they'd be over at 8am sharp. Jack had hoped it had just been an idle threat, but the girls had thankfully organized themselves and had been fully prepared. Unfortunately for Jack, they'd been up and about since 6am, which was not a sensible Sunday morning time at all.

Joyce and Mick had arrived, bringing their own inimitable brand of frostiness with them, which made Jack feel the t-shirt he was wearing wasn't enough to combat the chill. Usually Mick by himself wasn't so bad, but he followed Joyce's lead in things, so they presented a dual cold front. The summer frost had become even worse when Kate and Hanna had proudly shown off their painted finger- and toenails. Then Joyce had acted as if Jack was against the whole idea of the girls going to the lake house for summer with them, when he actually hadn't been.

Like he'd had any choice in the matter anyway.

He gave the girls some pocket money and, while he enveloped them both in a big bear hug, Joyce came up and stood beside him. "I promised the girls that while we're away, you'd remember to put fresh flowers on Maria's grave for them." She had been wearing an incredibly smug expression as she spoke, one that Jack knew very well.

Looking at her levelly as he stood up, Jack bit his tongue and let the girls out of his embrace. "I'm sure I can find time to do that," he had said quietly. Especially as she had gone to the special effort of making him acquiesce in front of his daughters.

The girls had quickly bundled themselves into the car, chattering excitedly and promising lots of emails. Jack had watched, waving at them, as the car drove out of sight, before turning and slowly trudging back to the empty apartment.

Going into the girls' room, Jack stood in the doorway and smiled as he looked around at their half-hearted attempt at tidying before leaving. Sometimes they were like him in more ways than he had ever thought. He was going to miss them.

Still, it was only a month and he'd gone longer without seeing them.

He headed to his room to get a slip of paper out of his wallet, so he could phone Frank's doctor at home. On reaching him, he tried to get Frank admitted earlier for treatment or even observation; he couldn't have Frank dying just before the dialysis started -that would be some kind of cruel joke.

The doctor said there was no luck in changing the appointment and had told him he was pretty lucky to get things organised as quickly as he had.

Defeated, Jack gave up and phoned Frank to say he'd be over late afternoon and stay the night. The conversation became surreal as Frank was in one his army modes again. It was turning into an essay in frustration and Jack finally rang off.

Looking at his watch, Jack noted it had been only 25 minutes since the girls had left.

It was going to be a long, long month.

With time on his hands, he decided to go his office; there was always some form of paperwork there that needed to be done, and it would make up for his time taken on Monday –as if the department didn't owe him enough hours anyway.

Xx—

Retail therapy, that's what Samantha needed. She didn't want to stay home and end up doing something awful, like housework and cleaning, so she decided she would hit some of her favorite shops to get some new clothes. She was in one of those moods where she knew she would find something she couldn't possibly afford, but just had to have.

She was feeling quite light-hearted as she got ready to go out. No men or anything else to worry about; it was just herself.

The last touch was to wear the earrings she'd worn yesterday. Putting them on and smiling, she thought about Jack's touch on her cheek the previous night.

And then that Anne had turned up.

_What a complete and utter cow._

Xx—

After rifling through the papers that had magically arrived on his desk, and then looking through several emails, Jack found something that caught his eye. Someone was up for parole -not that Jack kept an eye on everybody from every case he'd been involved with, but there were some he'd flagged for one reason or another. He stared at the notification in his inbox, and then he got onto the phone to check out visiting hours.

Jack was beginning to feel he needed to talk. Not to just anyone, and not to Dr. Harris. It hadn't really been weighing on his mind, but things had to be resolved about Maria if he was going to move forward.

He wasn't quite sure where that was going to be, but just to get some things off his chest would be a good start.

Jack surprised himself in considering that this person might be someone he could talk to.

It had been a different situation regarding this man, and with a definitely different outcome.

Xx--

Barry Mashburn looked intently at Jack, watching as he came in and sat opposite him, his dark, expressive eyebrows rising in recognition. "When they told me I had a visitor and it was you, I nearly fell over. Not my usual way to spend Sunday afternoons."

Jack smiled. "Barry, how are things?"

"Fine. As well as can be expected." Jack recognized the same phrase he'd been using since Maria's death. "I didn't know agents paid social calls to hostage takers. I have to say you've changed since I saw you last," he said, indicating Jack's weight loss and shorter hair.

"I have to say you look pretty much the same. How are they treating you?"

Barry rolled his eyes and folded his arms. "_Now_ you ask… after all this time." He looked around the visitor's room. "I have a certain notoriety, having shot an undercover FBI agent, but I keep to myself; they leave me alone most of the time."

Jack wondered how Samantha would react to that piece of information. "You know damn well that was an accident."

Barry shrugged his shoulders. "You know, I keep telling them that, but they refuse to believe me." He tipped his head towards Jack. "Thanks for putting a word in for me at the trial. You were right. It could have been a lot worse."

"The jury understood. I think everyone did. I see you're coming up for parole." Jack had also checked through Barry's prison file before he came. A quiet, model prisoner: a few problems with his temper when provoked, but no outbursts for some time. There had been a fair amount of counselling early on and Barry had taken it well. The chances for parole were very good.

Again, Barry shrugged, his eyes carefully watching Jack. "What's up? Because I don't think we have much in common to talk about, as much as I appreciate the visit and all. There's always a reason."

Jack leaned forward, clasping his hands together on the table. "Going back to that day… Do you remember what we spoke about? When it was just you and me?"

Barry raised his hands helplessly. "It was an intense time. I know it should be burned into my memory, but some things are a little blurry. Which part in particular?"

"We were talking about our wives, our families-"

Barry nodded, leaning forward also, remembering how dissimilar Jack's marriage was to his own. "Oh yeah… You were separated…"

"And you called me selfish and petty." As much as Jack didn't want to cover this ground and those words, he needed to. "I listened to what you said. I went back home, spoke to Maria, asked if I could come back."

"You re-evaluated everything." Barry seemed impressed, perhaps with his own role in it.

"I did."

"And she took you back."

"For what it was worth."

Barry cocked his head to one side. "How so?"

"Work interfered again, a serial killer made some threats. It was all too close for comfort. She was offered a new job in Chicago, and at the last minute, told me she didn't want me with her in her new life. She took our two daughters with her. We divorced," Jack said, keeping the past few years brief.

Barry sat back in his chair, surprised. "Tough break."

"I tried to get sole custody-"

"Not a chance, I bet."

"Yeah…"

There was a pause. "So?" Barry prompted, clearly wondering why Jack was sitting opposite him.

Jack took a deep breath that he probably didn't need. "She died in a car accident a couple of months ago."

Those black eyebrows rose again. "I'm sorry, Jack. I really am… Your daughters are with you now?" Jack nodded. Barry looked down at the table in front of him. "Your marriage was quite different from my relationship with Nicole, but… I bet you feel like shit." Jack hesitantly nodded again. Barry looked back up at Jack, further forming the train of thought in his mind. "You feel like shit because you don't feel as though you've mourned for her," he said, as if trying the words out.

Jack sighed and rubbed his eyes, tiredly. "Jesus, Barry. I don't even know how..."

"I'm guessing you also don't know if you should, right? I never got what your problem was in your marriage Jack. I don't know if I'm the right man to talk to as this is all new territory to me, but I talk to other inmates and…" He was frowning at Jack, perhaps putting himself in his shoes and then his expression softened. "It's all right to be pissed off, Jack," he said quietly. "Let it out."

Jack already knew Barry was perceptive from their talk in the bookstore, but maybe here he'd hit the nail on the head.

"She-left-me," Jack said, as if he couldn't still believe it had happened. "Moved miles away -she connived long beforehand and knew what she was doing!" He emphasized his words by stabbing the table with his forefinger. "During the custody deposition, she brought out all these things -private things that should never have been up for discussion- to make sure she kept the girls." He got up, feeling the need to move.

Barry had a look of mock horror on his face as his eyes followed Jack pacing the small room in front of him. "And why not? She's a mother, for crying out loud! Her family was threatened thanks to your job, and your job is your life. I can tell that; you _know_ that. Of course she'd fight you for them. You were toast the minute she decided to leave you. Period."

"But now she's dead."

"You can be angry. Her death doesn't change the way you feel about her."

"I can't let it. I've got to be strong."

"Who for exactly -your daughters, yes- but who else?"

Jack stopped in mid-stride. "So, you're saying be bitter and twisted and let everyone know how I really feel."

"It doesn't have to go that far. Maybe just be honest with yourself. I mean -look," he said, pointing to Jack's left hand. "You're still wearing your wedding ring. I don't think you're doing that for yourself somehow."

Jack focussed on the offending item on his finger. "For the girls, actually," he murmured.

"And putting on the right face for them –very noble. Maybe you should talk to them about it –it won't be easy, but you'll be going nowhere with it still on there… Tell me, how is Samantha?" he asked, changing tack, giving Jack a chance to calm down.

Jack returned to the chair and slumped down into it. "She's fine. It took a while."

Barry was staring at Jack as he chewed his lower lip in thought. "You two…?" He left the obvious question hanging in mid-air.

Jack let no flicker of emotion pass his face. "No," he lied, albeit in a small way, "and anyhow, she hooked up with a colleague when I was supposed to be moving to Chicago with my family."

Barry had a look on his face for a moment that clearly said: _You had an affair and it_ s_erves you right_. Then he recovered and winced. "Must have hurt."

Jack found himself rather surprised at this kinder, gentler Barry. "I eventually figured it out, but… yeah. And then I found out that she broke up with _him _and is now seeing someone else."

"You missed out."

Jack shook his head, not really willing to admit it openly. "It isn't like that."

"Yes, it is… I bet she feels bad now Maria's dead."

Jack looked at him blankly. "Why would she?"

"Did you take a stupid pill? Think! And of course she'd move on to another guy. You're hands off to her now."

Jack was astonished. He'd never asked Samantha her feelings in the matter. They never even touched on it when they were at the restaurant.

The old Malone ego was at it again.

_Selfish!_

Barry leaned back in his chair. "Look at us, Jack. We have a dead wife and two children each, but that's where it ends. I loved my wife on the day she died, and I love her still. I can't quite understand where you were coming from in your marriage, but I'm trying… I do know something though -I'm going to get out of here and by Christ, I'm going to make a go of it with my kids when I do. I have to. I treasure Nicole's memory every day, but I had to let that anger -about the way she died- go. You know that; _you_ told me that… Of course then I was angry at _her_ for some time, when I first got here," he added, almost scowling as he remembered his behavior.

"Angry about Nicole –why?" Jack asked, puzzled at the man's intensity.

"Because she left me. She left Peter and Wendy."

This was sounding familiar. "You know that wasn't her fault." That was familiar too.

"I didn't say it was logical anger, and it was certainly misplaced. I had a heap of therapy and stuff. I worked through it." He folded his arms again. "And here you are: not knowing what people expect from you, not quite knowing how to behave. You've probably been sleepwalking through it all this time. It's a tough call. You may not want to admit it to other people or show it, but you can admit it to yourself... Let it go, and let it out."

"How?" asked Jack, needing to know.

Tapping his fingers on his lips, Barry gave Jack a compassionate smile. "That, my friend, is up to you. The easiest way is just to admit to it."

tbc


	9. First Things First

**A/N: **If you're reading this, then thank you for sticking with me, and especially to those who take the time to write reviews, they're greatly appreciated. My apologies for the lateness in this chapter, and those that keep at me to update, just keep doing it!... My thanks as always to the lovely Mariel, who gets the edits back to me faster than I am at sending stuff to her, and yes, I've been tweaking, so any mistakes are mine... Where is this story going? Not so much angst this time around, but some tying up of loose ends. I didn't like the way Frank was treated in S4, so this is my way of doing things.

And any views expressed about music in this chapter are not necessarily that of the author -okay, maybe some of it is...

**Chapter Nine**

**First Things First.**

Xx—

Back in his apartment, Jack found himself staring at his reflection in his dresser's mirror.

Really looking at himself; a critical examination, not just on the surface.

What had happened to him? Where had that younger man gone, the one that had gazed at his new FBI badge, running his fingers over it, memorizing its details; the younger man so full of thoughts for the future. He'd wanted to help people –even before he'd joined the Missing Persons Unit; he wanted to make a difference somehow. He may not have saved his mother, but he sure as hell could help others, one way or another.

And he had made a difference in people's lives. He was certain of it.

But then he'd spread himself too thin, while trying to do what was best.

He wondered yet again if there was any chance to repair it with Samantha.

He then wondered if he was over-analysing his present situation. Too much thinking meant nothing would happen. There had been enough of that in the past. Opportunities became missed events.

He looked at his wrinkles, his greying hair. A face that had seen too much, too soon.

_She couldn't seriously want this, could she?_

She had once, but that was another time.

And he'd treated her so badly, not that long ago. It still haunted him.

He looked at his wedding ring and pulled it off, putting it in a small dish he kept small change in. He wasn't even surprised at how easy it was to do. The girls were away, and he could use the respite from it weighing his finger down. What he would do with it when the girls returned could wait. Maybe sit down with them and have a talk about it, as Barry had suggested.

Pulling himself out of his reverie, Jack opened the drawers in the dresser, gathered a few things and threw them in a hold-all. He had left the prison facility, digesting what Barry had said. He would have been the first to admit he was confused, but the talk with Barry had helped him. Driving out of the prison parking lot, Jack had known the first thing he had to do was to get Frank organised –there were certain priorities, and his father was presently number one on his list.

Jack let himself into Frank's apartment, greeted him and found himself ignored. He wasn't surprised. Frank's place was the usual bombsite. His father was reading a newspaper, laughing at the cartoons. Throwing his hold-all on the sofa, he began to clean up. Frank would notice him eventually, probably when he smelt dinner. Jack was almost too scared to check out the cupboards and fridge so he decided to order take-out. While waiting, he phoned Stevie to check on her mission, then Vivian -just to keep her informed of where he'd be on Monday.

Some time later, after more tidying and clearing the food containers away, the Malone men were sitting on the sofa, watching sports. Or Jack was trying to, but Frank had control of the remote and liked to click through the channels; it amused the older man and Jack didn't want to spoil his fun, however frustrating it was.

During a non-channel switching pause, Jack looked over at Frank.

"You remember what we're doing tomorrow?"

"Nope," said Frank, unconcerned.

"You're starting your kidney dialysis treatments."

"I am? Sounds like a pain in the backside."

Staring at him, Jack wasn't sure if Frank had cracked a joke or not. "Ah, no, it'll be done through your arm actually, and take a few hours, like we discussed, and you have to have it several times a week."

"Sounds more like a pain in the ass then… Why do I need it?"

"You don't remember?"

"No, and I get tired of people asking me that… Hah! Look at those cars crash!"

Jack looked back to the TV; clips of racing car smashes were playing. He supposed it was entertainment of a sort, but not his usual type, although it was just getting to be interesting when Frank flipped channels.

"Where are the girls?" Frank suddenly asked, looking around.

"On holiday with Maria's parents."

Frank tsked. "Poor kids…" He looked around the apartment again. "Where's Maria?"

Jack was used to this enquiry from his father. "I told you, she died in a car accident a few months ago."

Frank frowned. "Oh, right…" he said, clearly not remembering. "She was a funny one, that wife of yours. Never really liked me."

This wasn't exactly a new fact to Jack. "Well, in the end, she didn't like me much either."

"She loved those girls of yours."

Jack nodded. "Yes, she certainly did." Something came to mind, that he'd always wanted to know. "Dad, why did you never find someone else after Mom died?" Like Jack had ever wanted him to; that would have been the last straw.

Frank looked at his hands, examining his own wedding ring. "Because I loved her. We had our problems and ups and downs, but I really loved that girl." He ran his thumb over the ring, sighing with nostalgia. "I just never found myself wanting to replace her." Screwing his eyes up in thought, Frank was quietly introspective and lucid when he spoke next: "I heard once… that the love a mother has for her children can become stronger than that for her husband." He looked over at Jack, perhaps seeking confirmation in Jack's own case.

Jack had heard of this and the thought could have quite easily have applied to Maria. He couldn't be bitter about it -if that were the case. It just added to the complicated path that their lives had taken.

Swallowing a lump in his throat, Jack thought he'd test the waters while his father was in some state of normal: "Do you think that's what happened with Doris?" he asked gently.

Frank suddenly winced. "I don't want to talk about it."

"Just a couple more questions-"

"That's an order, Private!"

Knowing he'd sent Frank off again, Jack knew better not to push it, so he let it go.

It could wait.

And the morning's treatment couldn't come fast enough.

Xx--

Samantha had asked Danny to swing by the dialysis center where Jack would be with Frank. Danny had rolled his eyes at the time, but they were now firmly on their way there.

"You sure you want to do this?" Danny asked, frowning at the street ahead.

"We have time and we can spare a few minutes on our way back. Turn left here," she instructed, having already phoned through the results of their dead end of the new case to the bullpen. Vivian's directions were vague at best, but it shouldn't be too hard to find the place. Not that she could see much over the large fruit basket perched on her lap; after Samantha's initial suggestion, Danny had insisted on stopping and the team buying something for their boss' father. He was always thoughtful like that.

Danny complied, turning the car in, and practically snorted. "What's with this 'we'? I'm not coming with you. Hospitals…" and he shuddered in a dramatic way. Samantha looked over at him.

_What is it with men and hospitals?_ "It's not really like that," she pointed out. She wasn't really sure what these places looked like. Maybe it would be like a mini-hospital.

"And you're _really_ sure you want to visit?" Danny persisted.

"Shut up and turn left over there, Taylor," Samantha said, indicating the center's parking lot.

"James let you order him around like that?" he asked, a sly grin on his lips.

"Ah, yeah, if he knows what's good for him." _Oh crap, that was stupid of me…_

The car park was busy. Danny slowed down and craned his neck, searching. "I suppose by the time I find parking, you'll be out again."

"I'm sure we can abuse our badges."

Coming to a halt near the front entrance, Danny nodded. "I'll move aside for any ambulances or whatever they have here, never fear. Give Frank our best, okay? He's a nice old guy."

Samantha managed to maneuver herself out of the car with the fruit basket and smiled. Danny was in a prime spot to check out any nurses that might pass by. "I won't be too long." She set off, kind of knowing why, but uppermost feeling it would be the polite thing to do –whether Jack thought so or not.

And she remembered that Christmas Eve in the office, while Jack had been at his deposition and Frank had come in and thrown innocent, odd comments around the place like grenades.

And Maria had arrived like an avenging harpy.

With one thing and another –meeting Maria in the break room and not being able to just shut the hell up and say nothing; her own half-hearted attempt at _something_ with Martin; Jack and his spectacular glass smash; the strained team dinner at Hop Lee's later- it had been right up there in her miserable Christmas Top Five.

Maybe even the Top Three.

Xx—

Jack had watched as the doctor and nurses prepped Frank and then inserted his catheter. Luckily his veins were sturdy and had taken it well; Jack had been glad Frank hadn't needed a peritoneal one –that just sounded scary.

About an hour and a half into the treatment, while he was reading the newspaper to Frank, Frank had looked up, blinked and smiled.

"He-ey, Blondie…" the older man said, just as Jack felt a light touch along his shoulder. He looked around and saw Samantha standing there, large as life with an even bigger fruit basket. He quickly stood, covering his surprise.

Now Frank was grinning broadly. "Geez -when I said I'd like a pretty nurse, I didn't think they'd actually find one for me."

Samantha couldn't resist a grin as she put the basket on a small table by Frank. "No, Mr. Malone, I'm Samantha Spade. I work with Jack."

"Lucky him. Have we met?"

"A while ago."

"Damn, I'd like to remember _that_. I'd get up but I'm hooked up to this machine thing. What's it for again, Doctor?" he looked at Jack, who was still standing, silently moved by Samantha's arrival and the gift.

"Your kidneys."

"Oh right…" He turned his attention to the fruit basket. "And all this is for me?"

Samantha waved a hand at the fruit. "This is just a little something from us -Jack's team at the Bureau. Hope you like it."

"That's very nice of you all," Jack said, quietly touched.

"Credit where it's due -it was Danny's idea. How's it all going?" she said, indicating the machine and Frank, who was eying the grapes.

"Very well, but it's early days yet. I'm staying with him to make sure he'll be all right, and the nurses are really good-"

Just then Stevie arrived, like a small whirlwind. "Hey, did I miss the good stuff?" she asked as she dragged a tray table nearer Frank. "Sorry I'm late," she said to Jack, while rummaging around in her bag. "I was downloading some more tunes."

"I thought as much… Stevie, you remember Samantha, from that time in Central Park?" The women smiled at each other in a guarded way. Samantha moved to stand beside Jack by the wall, so as not to be in the way. "And I don't think you've met my dad before… Dad, this is Ste-"

"Stephanie," Stevie quickly cut in. "How are you, Mr. Malone?"

"Tired… Who the hell are you?" He looked towards Jack.

Who was still recovering from Stevie, or whatever her name was. "'Stephanie'? Since when?" he asked.

"Since my parents named me that. Check me out on those computers of yours. I thought it might be nice for your father to call me it. And look, I even un-spiked my hair for the occasion." She made it sound like a monumental decision had taken place.

Frank was getting testy with all the commotion. "What's going on?"

"Dad, you know I can't be with you at all these treatments so _Stephanie _here is going to bring you here, take you back home, and look after you while you're having treatment."

"Look after me how -she's a magician? A performer?"

Stevie smiled. "No Mr. Malone, even better. Jack said you like jazz, and told me a few of your favorites, so I'm here to play music for you." By now she had put her iPod out and set up some small speakers.

Frank pointed to the diminutive object. "What –in that thing?"

"You better believe it. I've got so much in here you'd be amazed." And she started to list some of the musicians she'd got for him.

Samantha leaned closer to Jack. "You're brilliant, but you sure she won't get bored?"

Jack shook his head, catching a waft of Samantha's perfume. "Stevie said she was happy to broaden her musical horizons since I was paying and I'm sure it's good for him too. They're long sessions, so anything to keep him occupied. I'm getting him morning appointments; his Alzheimer's isn't as bad then." He decided that he liked the perfume -whatever it was- very, very much.

"Check this out Mr. Malone, we can randomly shuffle," said Stevie, pressing the buttons. "Look, Nina Simone-"

"'My Baby Just Cares for Me'?" Frank asked, hopefully.

"Exactly!" Stevie pulled up a chair and sat back as Frank listened to the music, playing the imaginary descending scales with his fingers, in time along with the piano. She grinned over at Jack. "I think this is going to be fun."

Jack smiled at Frank's evident enjoyment -he was like a small kid. "I used to hate jazz because it was Dad's favorite," he remarked.

"And now?" enquired Samantha, even though she knew the answer.

"You know I love it," Jack said, looking at her deliberately.

"That's a bad precedent," said Stevie threw in, overhearing them. "I may end up enjoying my parents' fascination with the 70s and 80s… Ugh, shoot me now."

"It's not all bad," Jack said, feeling someone should defend that musical era.

"Death before the Carpenters… and Dr. Hook and Neil Diamond and Wham… and don't even get me started on Carly Simon and that "You're So Vain' song. I swear Mom has played it twenty thousand times…"

"It's a good song," said Jack, wounded. Samantha nodded her head in agreement.

"Is that the one about clouds in the coffee?" Frank suddenly asked. "What the hell is that supposed to mean, anyway?"

Three heads had turned to him in surprised unison. "Ah, it's about a dream, Dad, that's all," Jack managed, amazed as usual how his father's disintegrating memory could drag up the oddest things.

Frank waved an irritated hand in the air. "Damn silly if you ask me… What else has this thing got?" he asked eagerly. Stevie leaned over to show him some of the selection on the small screen.

Samantha smiled, and then remembered that she was supposed to be back at work.

"I really must get going-" she began and stopped as she noticed Jack looking thoughtfully at her. _Damn, he gets me every time he does that… _"What?" she asked.

"Ah, nothing," said Jack, caught out looking at her. He should have realised he was being so obvious -as she was standing so close to him. "That color's really nice on you," was all he got out, referring to her blouse –he thought it might be new, but he'd frankly be guessing.

Samantha beamed; it was one of the retail therapy blouses she'd just bought. It wasn't her usual cut or shade of red, but it was a must-have. "Thanks. I'll see you at work, then."

"See you tomorrow, and thank you."

She said good-bye to Stevie and Frank before leaving.

Jack watched her go before turning his attention back to the small jazz club. The next piece of music chosen was from Miles Davis' Kind of Blue album. Stevie was explaining how pristine the sound was and Frank was arguing how scratches on records actually added to the experience.

"I'm missing those scratches. Miles told me it became a part of the sound," said Frank.

Jack looked at Stevie with a rueful look. "Yes, of _course_ he did, Mr. Malone…" she said, sitting back and let Frank listen to the music.

"So…" Jack began, edging over to Stevie's chair. "What do you think of Samantha?" Not that her opinion really mattered, but he was wondering anyway.

Stevie shrugged her shoulders non-commitally. "She's okay, but you _really_ like her."

"Is it that obvious?" asked Jack, bemused.

"Painfully," Stevie said.

"Well then, what do you think I should-"

Stevie raised a hand in protest. "This has nothing to do with me and I think you're old enough to make your own decisions. And mistakes," she added as an after-thought. "Besides, don't ask me -I haven't got time for a boyfriend. I'm waiting to find someone overseas –there's no-one in New York I like."

Jack was entertained by the very large generalisation. "Do you think I should talk to Kate and Hanna first?"

"I think you know them well enough to make sure you wouldn't do anything stupid."

Jack cocked his head to one side. "Are you sure you're only 20?"

"Last time I looked I was."

Xx--

Jack arrived home after dropping first his father, and then Stevie, off. He threw himself into an armchair, tired, but not as literally drained as Frank would be feeling.

He was feeling pleased. It had all gone well. Frank was getting his dialysis with minimal side-effects, and he and the newly christened Stephanie were getting along. Stevie was happy to have an iPod, not having to find a real job and learning about jazz. She found Frank quite funny –for an oldie, she'd said. In-between downloads she'd been reading up on Alzheimer's, so as to understand what Frank was going through.

Jack put a big tick next to the mental list with his father's name on it.

Hauling himself out of the armchair, he decided to fire up the computer, go online and check his emails to see if there was anything from the girls. To his delight there was and it was quite long. Their email described how they'd spent part of the day finding insects and interesting plants. Hanna liked to research and catalog what they'd found, and Kate had drawn surprisingly detailed pictures. They had made sure to tell Jack that no bugs were injured in their investigation, but one large beetle had wandered off while they were inside, totally lost.

Jack typed out a reply entitled: _How Are Things at Camp Grenada?_ He'd let Joyce explain to the girls what it meant. Cheap shot -but it made him feel good.

Something else taken care of.

Now the next priority needed to be attended to.

He just had to figure out the right approach.

Xx--

Samantha's cell phone rang.

The morning had not started well. Her alarm hadn't gone off. There was no coffee in the kitchen cupboards –no matter how much she'd searched. She'd forgotten to iron her work clothes the night before. Now she was struggling to slip on a skirt while picking up the cell; she frowned at the caller ID, not recognizing the number.

"Sam, it's me," a familiar voice said.

_Oh great, what now? It can't be good…_

"Jack, it's only 7.45, I'm on my way, okay?" she said, more snappily than intended, shimmying into her clothing.

Jack tried to make himself comfortable in the phone booth, surprised at how hot the day was already. "I'm on my way to the office too, so calm down… I want to know something."

"What?" she asked, trying to do up the zipper.

"Are you planning anything with Soft Toy Boy?"

"Planning anything?"

"Long term."

"You mean long term serious."

"Yes."

"I… don't know. Why?" she asked, sitting down on the sofa, zipper forgotten.

"Drop him."

"Sorry?"

"Drop him."

"Why should I do that?"

"I don't like competition."

"What? Since when did it really matter to you?" she said, not wanting it to come out sounding quite like that.

"Since I decided to get my act together… And just for the record, Sam, it's always mattered to me." An agent from another unit went past him in the street with a nodded greeting.

Jack smiled politely.

_Good grief._

Samantha was quiet, absorbing all this new information. "We haven't _really_ spoken about us, since the other night."

"You know why."

She was silent again.

"Sam, I'm asking you to go out with me," he said, beginning to become exasperated, and not only with her; there was _another_ one from the Bureau -did every damn agent and intern in the building come down this street on their way to work? He'd chosen this spot because it was _away_ from Federal Plaza.

"On a date?"

He raised his eyebrows to acknowledge someone from another floor and watched them go past. He must be near a bus stop or something. _Jesus Christ… they must travel in packs. _"That's it exactly…" he ran a finger around his collar. He could feel his shirt sticking to him. He was glad he kept extra ones in his office. "I… I want to get to know you –better," he added, a little lamely.

"I think you know me fairly well, Jack," Samantha said quietly.

"In a way, yes. I want to treat you the way you should have been treated, now we have the time… I was thinking a movie."

Samantha's eyebrows had arched into her forehead.

"A movie?"

"Yes."

"In a movie theatre?"

"Yes!"

"So… what if I don't want to dump James?" She hoped she was making him squirm, but also knew how far she could go.

"No movie."

"What about OPR, and Section 23?"

"Screw them. I won't tell if you won't." Like it was going to be that easy, but it seemed the easiest thing to say at the time.

"Is this going to be like old-fashioned dating?"

"Well, yes… What's wrong with that?"

"So, ravishment after the movie is out of the question?"

There was a pause as Jack absorbed this. "I think I've done enough 'ravishing' as you put it, don't you think?"

"Hmm…" As if she really needed to think about it at all. "Jack?"

"Yes?" He realised he was holding his breath, and finally recognised the fact that it wasn't the weather making him sweat bullets.

"You're on."

tbc

Xx--


	10. Getting From There to Here

**A/N:** This was going to be a much longer chapter but it would have meant posting at some unforseeable date in time, and as I'm getting nearer to my due date -I hope you'll forgive this slighter-shorter-than-usual chapter... Mariel is a wonderful beta -any mistakes are mine as I can never resist tweaking after she's given it the final check... I posted some time ago in YT$AW that I have not stolen WAT's Hurricane Katrina idea, used in this chapter, as my version came to me, when I read about the certain statistic I mention, in a newspaper some months ago -they just got to show theirs first. I think I like mine better and it does keep the theme running with the show...

**Disclaimer:** Of course WAT isn't mine, but boy, if it were...

* * *

**Chapter 10**

**Getting From There to Here**

Xx—

What the hell had just gone on?

Samantha stared at her phone after Jack had rung off. She had practically heard a grin spreading across his face when she'd told him yes, and part of her was still wondering where the hell she'd got 'ravishment' from. She could definitely blame that one on her mother.

What do you do, when the man you've basically always loved, suddenly does a 360 and asks you out?

And not just any old ask._ Out_ out.

This was it. It was pretty much official in her mind.

If this were another game of his, she didn't really care about the rules -she'd let him dictate them at this present moment in time. Nothing else mattered, and that included the lack of coffee, the stuck zipper, and the late alarm.

She got up, firmly gripping the cell phone in her hand. Its small presence made her feel that everything that had just happened during the phone call wasn't just some desperate dream. It was really real.

Jack was back.

In her life.

She went back to her bedroom and caught sight of her reflection wearing a big self-satisfied smile.

_Damn, this feels good…_

Then, on a sudden whim, she went to her closet. She knew it was there, hanging and tucked away in the back, still in dry-cleaning plastic. She pulled it out and unwrapped it, checking it over –it was fine and being another five minutes late wouldn't matter now.

Xx--

What the hell had he just done?

He splashed some water onto his face in the 12th floor men's room.

Asking to go on a date to the movies at his age.

And he'd made himself sound like he was from another era, while feeling as nervous as a school kid wanting a prom date.

_Unbelievable._

But the thing was, he'd thought it out so clearly the night before and still thought –even with the tiniest hint of reservation- that he'd done the right thing.

Samantha hadn't said no, which was the biggest plus. But he wasn't going to take it as an easy thing. Nothing was going to be taken for granted; Samantha was too precious to him.

Re-tying his tie after changing his shirt, he was slightly startled as Martin came barrelling in, also carrying a fresh shirt and a small toiletry bag.

Surprised, the younger agent clutched the small bag protectively to his chest. "Hey, I'm sorry," he said.

Jack looked at Martin's reflection in the mirror. "Good morning. You're looking a bit worse for wear I have to say," he remarked, looking at Martin's drawn features.

"Bad night's sleep, that's all," Martin said, quietly shrugging it off as he put his things down by a sink, away from Jack.

Jack wasn't in the kind of mood for any idle chat –certainly not in the gents' and not with Martin, anyway. "See you on the floor, then," and he gathered his own things before setting off, just as Martin began using an electric shaver. Jack had been a little preoccupied with his own concerns to notice anything amiss with Martin. Ever since he'd learned Martin and Samantha had been dating he'd kept any personal dealings with him to a minimum. It hadn't been his business.

But in the scheme of things, that didn't matter anymore, because now she was going to go out with _him_.

As it should have been all along.

He felt extremely happy and was virtually walking on air, in the mood to almost hum a tune by the time he returned to his office. The mood, however, crashed and burned when, just as he sat down, the phone and fax line started ringing urgently.

Xx—

Samantha glided past Jack's office, hoping to catch his eye, but he was head down, talking quite hurriedly, writing and juggling several pieces of paper; it looked like a case had come through. She carried on to the bullpen, feeling her heart beating a little faster.

She was actually quite impressed with herself.

_Samantha Spade –Ice queen._

Very cool, very calm, very collected -showing absolutely nothing about how she felt on the inside, when she was really bursting with joy. She didn't even need a coffee anymore -this was a great high.

She smiled a greeting at Martin and Vivian and made it to her desk just as Martin appeared in the bullpen.

"I think we've got something happening; Jack's looking busy," she pointed out to the team.

Vivian –wondering why Samantha would choose to wear black on what was promising to be another hot summer's day- shuffled some papers. "Well, as long as it's not a waste of time like yesterday's case. I hate false calls."

Danny looked over in the direction of Jack's office. "Well, we'll be finding out –because here he comes… right… about… now."

Jack strode up to the whiteboard, intent of purpose. "Renee Mitchell, 14, last seen leaving a holiday tennis practice at her school around 7pm last night," he said, putting up a picture, and drawing the beginning of a timeline. The team were watching him, waiting for more information.

"Isn't it a bit early for NYPD to send us a case like this?" asked Martin, voicing what everyone would be thinking, as Jack put the whiteboard pen down.

Jack nodded, and then put up another picture of a man. "It would be if it weren't for the fact that her stepfather is Gregory Carmichael, sex offender and abuser."

"Do we have him?" asked Samantha.

Jack shook his head as he looked over at her. He noticed she was wearing a familiar outfit, but didn't allow himself to be distracted. "He was one of over two hundred registered and paroled sex offenders that went missing –and still are- from the New Orleans area after evacuation during Hurricane Katrina."

Vivian winced as she threw her pen down. "I don't like that statistic."

Jack carried on: "After his conviction, the family relocated and then, a few months ago -against all advice- moved to Jamaica, Queens, and have been living with Renee's aunt to be closer to her sick grandmother. We would have to assume that Carmichael figured or found this out and has steadily made his way up here. I will bet good money that he doesn't look anything like his mug shot anymore."

Danny leaned across the table to pick up Carmichael's case file. "So find one, and find the other."

"And it stands to reason that Renee, being the earlier focus of his abuse, would be the reason of his coming here and subsequent abduction; you can see how soon we have to act on this. It's going to be a difficult needle to find in a large haystack –who knows how long he's been in New York? It could have been months." Jack found himself staring at the mug shot, his eyes drilling into Carmichael's.

"When did the family realize she'd gone missing?" asked Danny while making his own notes.

Jack tore his eyes away. "Quite late. She was supposed to be having a sleepover at a friend's. They assumed she was there; the friend assumed she'd gone home when she didn't turn up. The way teenagers use their cells constantly, I'm surprised this slipped under the radar –but it did. I'll co-ordinate with the New Orleans field office and his case officer; you sort out who's going where, you know the drill. The details are in the file." He threw the last sentence over his shoulder as he left the bullpen.

He had been in his office two minutes and was about to dial up the New Orleans bureau when he looked up to find Danny standing in the doorway.

"Come in," he said, gesturing for Danny to come in. The younger agent seemed almost reluctant, but he went in and remained standing, a look of concern on his face.

"Something up?" asked Jack, over the top of his glasses. "A problem with this case?"

Danny hesitated before answering. "No, not directly. I know Vivian and Samantha both came in some time ago and spoke to you about… how you'd _prefer_ not to go into the field these days."

Jack nodded, slightly bemused by Danny's diplomacy. "You have a problem with that," he stated.

"It's just that…" Danny started, and then paused.

Jack took off his glasses and gently started to twirl them in his hand as he waited.

Danny shifted his feet. "It's not the same, Jack."

"What's not?"

"The team. I just feel we're not operating at our best."

"Do you think the outcome of some of the previous cases could have been different if I'd been out in the field more?"

Danny fanned out his hands. "Maybe... probably… who knows?"

"You've all acted within the best of your respective abilities. I have no problem with the way things have been handled."

"Yes, but… it's the team. It's not the same out in the field without you there."

"They tell you why I _prefer _to stay behind the desk?"

Danny nodded. "And I respect that but… I think sometimes that Vivian could do with a bit more office time, especially after her heart operation." He knew Martin needed it too after his surgery, and also for other reasons he was beginning to suspect.

Jack put his glasses down on the desk. He knew Danny wouldn't have come in and mentioned it unless he hadn't given it serious consideration. To tell the truth, he missed being out in the field –the drama, the electricity, the excitement. He'd found that out when with the one or two cases he had been out on. It didn't make any difference if the girls were with him or away, really. And there was Viv and Martin, recovering from major surgeries and here he was sitting on his ass in his chair, hiding from the chance of flying bullets. The same bullets he'd been dodging throughout the girls' lives, to make a point.

Like he was afraid of the world.

Looking at Danny as he stood up, he decided that there was no time like the present, and he did want to get his teeth into this case. "Well, maybe I should do something about it then, Danny Boy."

Danny's face split into a smile, thinking Jack would give him the brush off –and when was the last time he had called him that? He stood up. "That's great Jack. It'll be like having Batman back in Gotham again."

Smiling as he gathered up the file, Jack asked: "So, what does that make you exactly–Robin?"

Danny managed to look insulted. "Superman actually, can't you tell?"

"Obviously there aren't any Latino superheroes, then," Jack remarked as he and Danny quickly walked back to the bullpen. "I'll take your advice: Viv can stay."

Relieved, Danny nodded. "Thank you for that. She was partnering up with Samantha to interview the family."

_Well, that works out just fine…_

Xx—

Samantha stood close -but not too close- to Jack as the elevator's doors slowly shut, thrilled to be alone at last. She looked over at him as he looked over at her, eyes locked, a slight smile on both their lips.

Samantha took a breath. "So, we-" she began.

But Jack cut her off and shook his head. "Not now," he mouthed, and turned his attention back to the doors.

The elevator stopped on the next floor and people piled in, causing them to move against the back wall and closer together. Samantha really couldn't stand it; it looked like she wasn't the only one being glacial about it -Jack could also be cool when he needed to be. The elevator was beginning to feel stuffy.

Jack was thinking about the case, as a distraction, but he could feel Samantha's bare arm brushing against his own. He'd made a concerted effort to check out her outfit while they walked to the elevator.

_Yes, she always looks in good in black. Especially in that outfit –she must have kept it all these years… _He ran an index finger around his collar for the second time that morning as he remembered.

And he was glad he'd given up those grey suits and scary, colorful ties. Black was useful. He liked the fact they matched each other today.

He noticed she was now trying hard not to glance at him, as the elevator stopped and started at what seemed like every damn floor as they travelled down to the parking garage. Hoping he might put her out of her misery, he carefully moved his arm, surreptitiously found her hand, and linked his little finger around hers.

Samantha let a small sigh escape her lips.

It's the little things…

Xx—

He was tormenting her, she was sure about it.

They exited the elevator and walked to the car while Jack spoke about the case. They got in the car, strapped themselves in, drove through the garage and Jack was still talking about the case.

The moment the car was in the street was the only time when he seemingly paused for breath.

She waited for him.

"Can we talk now?" she asked, solidly keeping any desperation out of her voice.

He nodded, smiling. "A necessary evil; I want to keep this totally and wholly out of work. I don't want to give any ammo to those nosy bastards at the OPR."

Samantha relaxed into her seat. It was a good idea. It was a _very_ good idea.

But temptation at work – glances, whispers, even body language- was always a dangerous thing… It was bad enough before, but now it was going to be absolute torture now.

Tough, but nothing they couldn't handle.

Together.

She found herself not able to keep her eyes off his profile, blatantly staring. "Honestly, the movies?" She still couldn't believe he'd suggested it.

"I think so."

"We've never been out to the movies together. Ever."

"Isn't it the natural thing for a first date?"

"Is that really what it's going to be?"

Jack shrugged nonchalantly. "I thought it would be nice."

"What are we seeing?"

"Nothing… girly."

"Not action."

"Classic?"

"Choose Bogart and I shoot you." This wasn't an idle threat from Samantha and Jack knew it.

He found himself grinning as he stopped at some lights. "Hitchcock. I know _Rear Window_ and _Vertigo_ are playing somewhere."

"I can handle a bit of Jimmy Stewart. Great blue eyes."

"Frosty blonde Grace or cool blonde Kim?"

"Frosty blonde."

"Good, it's decided. Unless you haven't had words with…" he left the words hanging.

"I took care of him... Actually I took care of that after we met at Lisi's."

Jack was taken slightly off guard, but then smiled smugly, like any man would, knowing he'd successfully gotten rid of a rival –one way or another. "Maybe you should keep pretending you're still seeing him," he casually suggested, "to the team." The traffic started flowing again and he directed his attention back to driving.

Samantha didn't give it a second thought, as she'd already let that happen with Danny. "I can do that."

She looked over at him, secure in the knowledge that something was finally happening.

"We can go out on our next free evening?"

"Well, it could be tonight if we find Renee."

They glanced at each other, happy in their world.

Again.

tbc


	11. Frustration

**A/N**: Sorry for the wait. Does having a baby girl last December, then selling the house and moving to a small town, plus opening a business count in any way? I hope so because it's the best I've got... My thanks to Mariel, because she's great, without a doubt (and J/S fanfic misses her), and to Sam and Diane, my prodders.

This is technically Part 1 of a long chapter, but I've decided to split it and post it, to get it out of the way. The next chapter -part 2- is practically finished, so the wait won't be long next time. I'm not doing this to get extra reviews -trust me.

Just for the timing aspect, this is still set last year in the U.S. summer, so around June 2006. Yes, it's taking me a long time to write.

* * *

**Chapter 11**

_Frustration_

Xx--

Jack's wedding ring.

As they drove in comfortable silence to Queens, the space on his finger wasn't hard to miss.

Its absence was as noticeable as its presence. And God knows she'd looked at it often enough, and not in a good way.

For Samantha, the surprise was that it really wasn't a surprise. She had wondered before why it was taking Jack so long to remove it after Maria's death.

Finally, unshackled.

Half of her wanted to say something to Jack, something to show she had noticed it; the other half wanted to keep quiet, as though it was expected and just normal.

She said nothing.

But inside -since they were about to interview a missing person's family and there needed to be some modicum of decorum- she was delighted.

Xx—

Samantha and Jack nodded a greeting to the police officer outside the front door. Pamela Mitchell's sister, Patsy, greeted them at the door and ushered them inside. They found Renee's mother pacing in the living room, with a teenage boy they knew would be Pamela's son, Garrison. Another police officer stood discreetly on the far side of the room

Pulling a damp tissue between her fingers, Pamela looked at them with teary eyes. "It's him, isn't it? That bastard's taken my baby, I know he has."

Pursing his lips, knowing there was nothing else to say, Jack nodded. "We think so-"

"But how could he do that? Renee doesn't want to have anything to do with him, not after-" she swallowed, "everything -why would she let him take her?" Pamela started to sob again, Patsy led her over to the sofa, putting an arm around her shoulders in support. "We should never have come back to New York." This was obviously not the first time Pamela had said it since Renee's disappearance

Waiting until she had calmed down a bit, Samantha, with a look from Jack, answered her question. "Our colleagues are looking into how he might have taken her right now, hopefully there may be some witnesses."

"You mean he may have abducted her," Garrison stated, standing behind the sofa.

Samantha looked up at him. If his age was indeed 16, he looked more like 25 now. "Force may have been used, yes."

Garrison had put his hand on his mother's shoulder as Samantha spoke. Pamela looked up, inconsolable. "Oh God, if he touches her again… She's just getting her life back on track. We all are -after what he did to her, to us."

"We'll do our best," Samantha said gently.

Jack's cell rang and he excused himself, leaving her to more questioning. Vivian didn't have a lot of new information from the authorities in New Orleans aside from what had already been given. Two hundred plus missing sex-offenders were two hundred plus fewer things to be concerned about, and that was only the beginning. Looking for them was not high on their extremely long list of priorities in the still-damaged city and the general opinion was that none of the offenders would still be around, let alone still in the state. Now they were someone else's problems.

Carmichael's neighbours had been eventually tracked down by his case officer a couple of months ago, and they had vaguely remembered seeing him packing up his utility vehicle just before they also evacuated. They'd presumed to perhaps see him at the Super Dome, where everyone seemed to be heading. They'd said he had always kept to himself, which was fine by them, and they had a wrecked home and life to be worried about –not him. His bank account of about $1500 had been cleaned out of an ATM near Baton Rouge, two days after the hurricane had hit. Vivian, wondering how he had made it that far, said he must have been driving like a reckless, and lucky, bat out of hell.

"He's been lying low for quite some time it seems. Okay, I get you Viv. Thank the Bureau down there for their help –you're right, if that's about the best they can give us." He rang off after getting the make and model of Carmichael's utility. Then he phoned Danny to get updates from the neighborhood he and Martin had been checking, where Renee had last been seen. Danny informed him that someone had seen a young girl getting into a dark, non-descript car from his apartment window. According to the witness's report, she hadn't looked as though she was being coerced, and the car hadn't been memorable. The witness had returned to watching his sports game without thinking anything of it.

After the interview, they then looked over the crowded, cluttered bedroom Renee shared with her mother and left, having little with which to console Pamela Mitchell and her family.

Samantha followed Jack out the front doors, thinking about the case. "Damn stepfathers," she muttered, causing Jack to look at her questioningly. She shook her head. "Nothing…"and changed tact. "He could have taken her anywhere, right?"

Fishing the car keys out of his jacket pocket, Jack looked across the car roof at her. "Absolutely anywhere. All he had to do was slowly make his way up here, do odd jobs or petty crime to keep solvent on the way, steal a car every now and then, drift into New York and make his plans."

"Sounds too easy –watching, waiting, like a big spider," Samantha commented as they got into the car.

"He might have been using the time in prison to mull it over. Plus he's had nearly a year since Katrina, and New York was their home before the family transferred south with his job."

"I get the feeling there's no point in trying to find a path of crime from Louisiana to New York somehow… Seriously, do people really just drift into New York these days?"

Putting the key in the ignition, Jack nodded. "More than we think and they always will; he knows his way around, which is an advantage for him. He might not have known for certain she'd come back to her family up here, but he knows them almost as well as he knows the city. Seemed like a good guess for him." He tapped his fingers on the steering wheel as he thought. "I don't think he's a stupid man, by any account, but he's going to slip up somewhere, and where Renee is concerned, he doesn't think straight." Carmichael's profile had showed a man who was good at keeping secrets, as well as the ability to compel others into keeping them too. His years of sexually molesting Renee were evidence of that. "But she wouldn't have gotten into the car with him willingly…" he said, thinking back to what Renee's mother said.

They looked at each other, thinking the same thing. "Accomplice," Samantha said the same time as Jack did.

They buckled up and Samantha looked over at him; it was good to be on a case with him again. She remembered how surprised she and Vivian had been earlier that morning, when Jack and Danny had come back into the bullpen; Jack announcing that he would be going into the field and how Viv could do the office support. Viv and Samantha had looked at each other, wondering what Danny had said to get Jack motivated –maybe it had been some sort of guy thing. Whatever it was, it had worked and the happy consequence had been that Samantha could work with Jack.

Jack needed to be out in the field –plain and simple. She decided to say this to him.

His brow furrowed and his mind preoccupied with his thoughts, he managed a small smile at her as he started the car."We can't pair up too often; I'll just rotate who I work with."

Samantha smiled back; that's the way it would have to be.

But now, finding Renee was the most important thing, and anything personal would be put aside.

That's the way it always was.

Xx--

2 a.m. and they'd sent a reluctant Vivian home to her family hours before. Samantha's head was down on the bullpen's table, cradled in her arms, one eye surreptitiously watching Jack as he paced the bullpen, clutching yet another mug of coffee in his hand. She was awake, but only just –thanks to the long day and the warm air on the floor; the air-conditioning units were obviously on low or non-existent to save energy and, probably more importantly, the Bureau's money. Danny was throwing a rolled up ball of paper between his hands, staring at the whiteboard with its jarring lack of information, and a time line that had been started and now went nowhere. Renee's photo stared back at them all. It wasn't a happy face, and one that had seen too much too soon. Samantha couldn't look at it anymore; it was like facing failure.

Martin was awake and perky; he couldn't seem to keep still, something that Danny wasn't particularly surprised at. "Don't know what you're on, but we could all use some of it," he threw at Martin, who was visiting his work station for the umpteenth time.

Martin looked back at him, unabashed. "I think I've had too many of those energy drinks today."

Danny's face didn't change as he continued tossing the paper ball. "Yeah, too many of those will do that…"

Jack was ignoring them. Returning with Samantha in the early afternoon, he'd been in a foul mood of frustration and his temper had gotten worse as the day had worn on. Vivian had been stymied; Martin and Danny had nothing else to give from their exhaustive questioning around the neighborhood. Here they were -all hoping their presence would bring some good news. It was a scenario that had played out many times before in the bullpen, with varying results.

Samantha sat up and stretched her arms. Just then she felt a familiar twinge in her lower abdomen.

_Oh, great_. Finally, she and Jack were getting somewhere for the first time in years and her period was about to start. She knew she was due about this time, but hadn't really noticed the packet when she had automatically taken her contraceptive pill yesterday morning -perhaps it had been the lack of caffeine, the general messing around and then Jack's phone call. Getting up, she grabbed her handbag where she kept a couple of spare tampons and excused herself as she went to the restroom. Her period may not have arrived at that precise moment but at least she could be prepared.

She returned a few minutes later to find nothing had changed. Jack, helplessly looking at them all, was about to send them home and continue through the night himself when the phone in his office rang. They watched him leave to answer it.

"It'll be a lead," Martin said, with a degree of certainty, and not just to fill in the quiet.

Samantha didn't feel the need to comment; Danny just nodded, continuing his paper ball throwing. But there was a definite sense of hopeful tension in the air.

Several minutes later, they turned when they heard Jack by the doorway. Beckoning them to his office, he certainly looked less pissed off. "We've had a break in the case," he said, softly.

Xx—

Luck.

Dumb luck.

And at times like this, it was more than welcome.

If it hadn't been for that, they'd still be standing uselessly around the bullpen.

Earlier in the night, upstate New York, a drunk driver had been pulled over, having called attention to himself with erratic driving and Virginia plates. The police officer ran a check and found the car reported stolen 2 months before; it matched the vague description from the neighborhood witness. The driver, Joseph Lauzanna, had promptly passed out in the police car and had remained so until 1 a.m., waking up in a very sorry condition. Their check on him from his driver's license had found he was formerly of Louisiana with a petty criminal record, and had been in prison. It only took Jack a moment to recognise the name where Carmichael had been sent.

The team was standing around the table, all eyes on the speaker phone, listening as Officer Dupree's voice came clearly over the conference line. "He said he was heading for Canada! As if he was going to get across the border in that state, let alone get that far –he's not just drunk, he's just plain stupid! And cocky as hell until we told him what he was in for. Then he was real worried. Not wanting to go back to Louisiana, no way."

Jack suppressed a groan. _Sounds like amateur hour_. "You were doing this by the book, weren't you, Officer? I don't want any mistakes." He ignored a look shot at him from Martin.

"Oh yes. He was pissing us off, wanting to make a deal blah-blah, so we were humoring him, saying that he had nothing to give us and it was straight back to jail for him and _that's_ when he told us about his prison buddy Carmichael, and what they'd been up to, driving up in their cars to New York to get this poor girl. Took me a while to find out that you were the guys to talk to, I'd sure like to help you get him. Lauzanna's not exactly the brightest bulb on the tree, and he's got some lawyer now, but they're willing to deal."

Time being of the essence to find Renee, they decided to set up another conference call with the officers, Lauzanna and his lawyer. This was the best situation available for interrogation at the time, as valuable hours would be lost travelling across state otherwise. Half a frustrating hour later -mostly thanks to the lawyer- the set up was ready. Lauzanna was co-operative, despite his hangover.

"He's pretty obsessed, and he's got certain plans for her," Lauzanna said, referring to Carmichael, after mostly talking about himself for a few minutes.

Samantha had had enough. "He repeatedly raped her over a period of years –what the hell has he got planned now?" she asked, leaning over the phone and practically spitting at it. Jack leaned in and lightly pulled at her forearm, a look to back off in his eyes.

Lauzanna didn't sound phased. "I'd say more of the same. My deal with Greg was just to stick with him -help him get her. He was good to me in the joint. I'd do anything to help him out and I didn't want to be in Baton Rouge after Katrina anyway... But young girls aren't my thing and Greg was definite that Renee was his and his alone. He said I could do what I wanted after he got her."

Getting drunk had evidently been top of his list of things to do.

"Just give us the address, okay?" Danny demanded, also tiring of Lauzanna.

Lauzanna's lawyer mumbled something to Lauzanna, who then gave a motel address, a fair distance from Renee's home. "Good luck getting him," was Lauzanna's parting shot.

"We've got enough, let's get going," Jack said, finishing up the call, before giving instructions for back-up as the team sprang into action, hoping like hell that Carmichael and Renee would still be at the motel.

One way or another.

Xx--

TBC


	12. Something To Look Forward To

**A/N:** Okay, I may not be consistant in my postings, but I do write long chapters, so this might make up for it... **Mariel** is just so great at betaing, so any mistakes are purely mine, from my persistant tweaking, and I thank her for getting through the chunks I throw at her... I'm hoping **serataja** will unpack all her stuff and find her muse again, it's seriously MIA... Thanks to **DianeM** for pointing out something that slipped through -fixed! And big thanks to everyone who take the time to write a review, it's greatly appreciated.

**Disclaimer:** Not mine, don't sue, it's not worth it.

* * *

**Chapter 12**

**Something To Look Forward To.**

Xx—

Samantha found Jack by the coffee machine in the break room, at about 7.30am, staring at it. She didn't know he'd been there several minutes, trying to decide between soda from the vending machine or another mug of coffee, and wondering how much more caffeine and/or sugar his body could handle. He'd spent the last half hour organising alerts to various departments about Carmichael, but he still felt he hadn't done enough. The fatigue was battling how wired he felt, and winning.

"You okay, Jack?"

He sighed deeply. "Tired, frustrated, I really wanted to get the sick son of a bitch. I should have called in some other units earlier…" He looked at her, his eyes filled with the look of sadness and world weariness for Renee which Samantha knew so well.

"We got her, Jack. She's alive."

Sometimes things get lost in focussing on other things and Jack knew he had to remember the positive outcome of the case. "Yeah… the one good thing." Then he gestured to her face. "That's a bit of a worry."

Samantha's hand went instinctively to her chin. They'd found Renee, sexually molested and beaten in the dive that Carmichael and Lauzanna had been living in, but with no sign of Carmichael.

It had appeared that he had his own dumb luck. From what they gathered later from Renee, it seems he had fled some one hour before –how he knew to do that, they'd never know. Perhaps he'd spotted them somehow, or had been out looking for Lauzanna.

Renee had initially freaked out after Samantha and Martin had removed her restraints and gag, and had lashed out, with Samantha being in the firing line of a misguided, mistaken punch. Subsequently, Renee would only talk to the two of them –her rescuers- there and at the hospital later, leaving Jack out of it, as much as he wanted to help her.

Rubbing her jaw, Samantha shrugged it off. "The usual perk of the job. Some make-up will hide it." She'd had worse.

Jack nodded, sympathetically. "I know you'll be fine." He'd been off on a wild goose chase with Danny at the time while Samantha, Martin and some police stormed the motel room, thinking that they'd spotted a car that might have been Carmichael's. Now, with it all behind him, he made his beverage choice and got a bottle of water, then remembering himself, asked if Samantha would like it.

She shook her head. "I'm okay, and about Carmichael, you're not the only one feeling that way." Renee had been treated appallingly, but the consolation of finding her alive was tempered by the terrible beating and emotional abuse she'd been through. Further counselling would have to help her as well as her family. "I just get the feeling Renee's going to be looking over her shoulder for some time yet."

"That's true – and sadly unavoidable. I'm going to see about re-location for them, out of state. We have to help the family somehow," Jack said, taking a sip from his bottle, glad that Samantha was there to talk with.

They'd made it back to the Bureau to make a cursory report each. Danny and Martin had already gone; Jack was staying until Vivian arrived. Samantha was hanging around, hoping to just be with Jack.

Samantha looked over her own shoulder -not that there were exactly many people on the floor at that hour- before taking a step into Jack's direction. "Ah, about tonight… rain check?" she said, extremely quietly.

Sighing deeply and frankly a little relieved as he felt like sleeping the rest of the day away, Jack smiled. So much for keeping it all out of work. "That's fine, there's stuff I should do, a couple of phone calls to make. I'll check to make sure the movie's still on tomorrow and call you this evening –is that okay?" he asked, his own voice lowered.

Feeling exhausted, Samantha smiled back. "More than okay."

It could wait. She'd like to be a little more with it when she was out with him than what she felt at that moment in time.

Xx--

Back in his apartment, Jack put down his fresh milk, bread and morning paper on the kitchen bench and grabbed the phone. Lying on the sofa, he gratefully kicked off his shoes. Sleep could wait a bit longer. He phoned his daughters; seeing fragile Renee made him miss them more than before. Luckily they were in, just about to go on a morning swim. Hanna told him that she had found an informal soccer team to join and then, talking to Kate, he found that she was peeved that she'd lost her bug collecting buddy. She asked Jack to find the glass fish tank, which had been home to a couple of ill-fated goldfish in Chicago, as she wanted to make an insect house.

"You mean like a terrarium?" asked Jack, thinking he was wrong.

"Yes, a terrara-rium thingie. A bugarium," Kate said, trying the words out.

"I think I can find it." Somewhere within the piles of boxes in the stuffy storage room, he hoped he could remember which one it was in. At least it didn't have to be found right away and he had some time on his hands before they came back.

"Grandma wants to know if you've been to Mommy's grave yet."

_Of course she would. _Jack could almost hear Joyce telling Kate what to say. "Well, it's only been a short while-"

"She says any flowers there would be wilting in the heat."

Jack suddenly wished mother-in-laws could do the same. "I'll see what I can do, okay? Hopefully in the next few days."

Kate lowered her voice. "I think Hanna's got a boyfriend. He's on the soccer team too-" Then Jack heard an indignant shout from Hanna in the background. "I do not and he's _not_ my boyfriend!"

"Is too!" Kate shouted back. "You blushed when you were talking to him!"

Being a father of daughters, he'd hoped that boys would be far off in the distance. But with the joys of puberty happening to Hanna, Jack wasn't overly surprised at this. At least he knew that Joyce would be useful in keeping an eye on Hanna for him -hopefully like a prison guard.

After more subdued ribbing of Hanna by Kate and a little more chat, Jack was feeling much better. He forced himself out of the sofa and looked around the living room, then went and changed out of his black suit in his bedroom into some casual clothes. Wondering how the apartment could get so untidy without the girls around, he thought about getting a housekeeper in. But just as hastily he changed his mind –it might be seen as if he couldn't handle raising the girls himself, a sign of weakness. Then, casting a critical eye over his room, he decided that something was going to have to change there, and he wasn't thinking about the clothes strewn about. It needed a fresh look -especially as he knew he would be bringing Samantha there sooner or later.

He blinked at his presumption.

_Well, it is a goal, just not _the_ goal_, he hoped, justifying it to himself. He still had to make things up to her.

Putting aside those thoughts for another time, he rang Stevie for a catch-up as he pottered in the kitchen, wondering if there were any clean dishes. It was mid-morning and she was still sitting with Frank.

"You owe me a new pair of ear-phones," she announced, brushing aside any pleasantries.

"Since when? You got some with the iPod."

"Yes, but your father kept playing the same damn song again and again and again, so I had to give him mine to get some peace. And there is no way I'm using those again -old man's ear wax is _so_ not my thing…" Then her voice changed tone. "But honestly, he's quite odd today –didn't know me at all, amongst other things. I thought he might snap back but he hasn't."

Staring blankly into a cupboard, Jack didn't have much to say. "I hope he hasn't been too much trouble. Sorry about that."

"It goes with the territory, I expect. I know I've read about it, but tell me, they don't get better, do they," she stated.

Jack sighed. He knew exactly the stages his father would go through, and it had nothing to do with the added complication of kidney dialysis. "No… they don't. He'll only get worse."

Stevie was quiet for a moment. Jack could tell she would be looking at Frank. "Yeah, I read that. I just wanted to make sure. Shame, he's such a sweet old guy," she said softly.

It was Jack's turn to be quiet, thinking of all the bad times he'd had with Frank, wishing there had been more good memories.

"I'll organise some more headphones, if that's okay," Stevie ventured, changing back the subject.

"That's no problem at all. Thanks, Stevie."

Hanging up the phone, Jack decided to have some caffeine-free breakfast and made himself a large bowl of cereal from a box that didn't look as if the contents were made of pure sugar. He returned to the living room with the bowl and sat on the sofa with the newspaper. He found the listing for the Classic Theater where the Hitchcock movies were still playing, but did a double take at the address.

_Damn_…

_Why is everything I do so complicated?_

The Revival had obviously changed its name since they'd used it during the Mashburn case.

He trusted Samantha wouldn't mind being so close to the bookshop.

Honestly, Jack wasn't sure of her reaction.

He'd tell her when he called her later, rather than surprising it on her last minute; perhaps she might change her mind.

Mentally kicking himself for being so unobservant, he finished the cereal and had a fleeting look through the rest of the paper as he stretched out. Then he punched a cushion out of frustration for being so stupid. Maybe this whole dating thing was a bad idea.

Tiring as the day caught up with him, he shut his eyes, guessing that Samantha would be asleep by now, and the image of her curled up, gently breathing and probably hugging her pillow, comforted him. Just as he fell asleep himself, he realised something.

Something was different, something that hadn't happened to him for some time.

Just the mere thought of talking to Samantha later, knowing that she still wanted to be with him, gave him hope that his life was actually working out.

And something even better.

He was happy.

Xx—

"Did you sleep well?" Jack enquired, after Samantha picked up the phone, early in the evening.

"Quite well. I must be getting old," she said, stifling a yawn. "I'm sure I was never this tired when we pulled all-nighters in the past." She was sitting on her sofa, a small ice pack against her jaw, a cushion against her stomach and a tabloid magazine on her lap.

Anything to distract herself from thinking about Jack.

"I agree with you one hundred percent on that."

"What, that I'm getting old? Thanks Jack…" she laughed at him.

"You know what I mean… Hey, about the movie-"

"You're serious about this date thing, aren't you?" she asked, just wanting to be sure.

"Well, yes, starting fresh and all that. Look, if you'd rather do something else…"

"No, no! It wasn't that. I think it's a lovely idea. Really." _Sort of_.

"Honestly?"

"Definitely."

"You can change your mind, if you like. I just found out where the movie's on," he said plunging onwards, "-opposite the Table of Contents." He inwardly cringed, waiting for a reaction.

Samantha was silent for a moment, putting down the ice pack. "That's quite an oversight."

"It changed its name, it's now the Classic. Seems they've given up playing schlock. We can do something else, go somewhere else," he said hurriedly.

She was quiet again.

_Jesus, she must be pissed at me_. "Okay, why don't you just come over here -now, stay the night." Jack barely realised he'd blurted that out.

The magazine slid off her lap and Samantha nearly followed it to the floor in surprise. "So much for taking the time to get to know me again." _Why couldn't he have asked the other day, damn it?_

Jack wondered if he was asking for a heart attack by going back on his own thought out plan. "The offer's out there. Your choice."

"I'll take slow and the movie, thanks anyway." She felt this was in keeping with the rules of dating.

"You will?" Jack was surprised. "I mean –you will," he said, recomposing himself.

"We-ell, you're not the only one with an oversight problem. I should let you know that it's that time of the month for me. Sorry." Samantha chewed on her lip; it was her turn to wait for his reaction.

It was a muted one. "Ah."

"Just started today, so… well, you've got a few days to be old-fashioned."

"You can still come over. We can do other stuff," Jack said, thinking how much he'd always enjoyed just being with Samantha, even when sex wasn't involved.

"As much as I'd like to, I'll pass. Tomorrow, I want Jimmy Stewart, popcorn, chocolate and the chance to be wooed."

"You're sure about that," he asked, thinking Samantha might be reading too many romantic novels all of a sudden.

"Wooed."

"O-kay… I'll let you go. I should really get this place tidied up."

"Me too," Samantha fibbed, looking around her immaculate apartment. "By the way, about the phone call the other day-"

"Yes?"

"I'm really glad you called me, I'm really happy we're together again," she said, saying it out loud and liking the sound of it.

It was Jack's turn to be silent – warmly stunned.

"So am I Sam, believe me, so am I."

Xx--

Feeling a little more refreshed after his night's sleep, Jack was on his way to his office, looking forward to seeing Samantha and actually getting on with his reports, but instead he found he had a visitor waiting and pacing. Max stopped when he saw him. Jack knew it couldn't be good and he really didn't feel like this right now. Or even another time. What he really wanted was to have a look at the bullpen -for a glance at Samantha.

"Max –what's up?" he asked, forcing himself to pay attention to the latest problem. He threw his briefcase on a chair, and stood, waiting, trying not to focus on the look of concern on Max's face.

Cutting to the chase, Max lifted his hands, helplessly. "It's Anne. She's totally off the planet."

Jack was a nanosecond away from rolling his eyes, but stopped himself. _Here we go again._ "What's wrong?"

"She's got this thing in her head that there's something up between you and Samantha; she wants to go see Olczyk and report it as… as a concern."

_Jesus, give me half a chance to even _see_ Sam…_

Jack leaned back against his desk, watching as Max resumed his pacing. "What -because Samantha babysat the girls the other night?"

"I don't know. She thinks she saw something as the taxi pulled up and put it together with your past history-"

"When's she planning on doing this?"

"Sometime today, although I've got a horrible feeling it's sooner rather than later… Look, she's acting more jealous than anything." He stopped, then stepped towards Jack. "Tell me -what is it between you and Anne anyway?"

Jack studied the floor intently. "I don't know."

"Jack…" Max was getting more exasperated as he ran a hand through his sandy-grey hair.

"Okay, okay. I might have had a bit of a stupid crush on her. If you could call it that."

"When?"

"Years ago, when I introduced you two –that's probably _why _I got you two together."

"But you were married; Hanna was young, Kate was still a baby…"

Throwing his hands in the air, Jack was becoming irritable with this line of questioning. "I don't know why! Blame it on a lack of sleep and general neediness back then. It passed pretty quick, believe me. Just flirting, that's all."

"Just flirting," Max stated. He didn't sound that convinced.

"Yes! And now Anne's having problems with you, the shooting and the whole affair thing you had. I listened to her problems and now she seems to think I'm the easy answer."

"She's wrong, isn't she?"

Jack looked Max directly in the eye. "Very much so. It's like some kind of transference"

"So, in the warehouse, after I'd been shot, when I asked you to look after her if I died –if I had, there wouldn't have been anything…"

Jack was appalled at the suggestion. "Hell, Max, I thought you'd think more of me than that! Going after your widow would be the furthest thing on my mind." _Like in another universe._

"So you don't… _want _her… and she's getting back at you…"

"I'm sorry, Max. It's all in her head. She's turned up at my place twice now and I've pretty much laid it on the line with her."

"Well, you better go see Olczyk right now -before she does."

"I'll do just that, and Max…" He was about to apologise, although honestly he didn't feel he should.

Max waved him off. "Just go. I'll figure out what Anne and I are going to do."

Jack nodded, somewhat sympathetically, knowing he had to clear up this current mess of Anne's right away.

Xx—

Olczyk was on the phone when Jack strode into his office, throwing a glance at Anne standing by the desk as he did so. She'd obviously wasted no time.

"I think you want to see me?"

Olczyk looked at the receiver in his hand. "Your psychic abilities are impressive."

"Let's just say I had a hunch," Jack said, throwing another look at Anne. She was keeping a fixed eye on the floor.

Olczyk pushed himself back into his chair, clearly, Jack thought, not wanting to be part of this storm in a teacup. "Agent Cassidy has some unease about your attentions to an agent in your team."

"Oh, really? On what basis?" _Here we go -Section 23 bullshit again._

"She says you have been observed being overly 'attentive' to Agent Spade." Olczyk said it as if he didn't quite believe the words coming out of his mouth.

"Oh, for Christ's sake. When was this, Anne -the other night outside my apartment?"

Casting him a quick look, Anne nodded.

"Did you tell Alex why you were there?"

Olczyk looked at Anne. "You said you and Max were visiting?"

Jack stared at her, amazed. _Damn lawyers!_ "News to me, Anne. Sounds like truth stretching here."

Olczyk sighed. "Look, I'm not going to beat around the bush –Jack, is there anything going on between you and Agent Spade?"

Looking his superior dead in the eyes, Jack was firm. "No Alex, there isn't." _Technically_. "This is all about straightening her earring, which isn't a crime. I don't know what Agent Cassidy has conjured up in her mind."

Olczyk looked at Jack and then Anne. Not that he listened to departmental gossip, but he'd heard about the unease regarding some decisions she'd been making recently in Legal and figured it was all due to Max and their problems. "That's it?"

"That's it."

"Works for me. Fine with you, Agent Cassidy –or do want me to delve further?" The look on his face clearly said he didn't want or intend to on this trivial matter.

Anne waved her hand dismissively. "Okay, whatever. I was only expressing my concerns out of friendship," she said tersely, eyes flicking over to Jack, before walking out.

Looking pointedly at Jack with eyebrows raised, and then transferring his attention to a file on his desk, Olczyk indicated to Jack that the meeting was over, muttering something about a complete waste of his time.

Jack left the office, feeling ridiculous. He watched a moment as Anne walked to the elevators. Remembering something, he caught up with her. "You want to play games, Anne?" She turned towards him at that. "Then tell me, where were you years ago?"

Before answering him, she typically glanced around. "Where was I what?"

Jack lowered his voice. "Where were you during the Spaulding case and my OPR hassles? You talk of our long term friendship, but I don't recall you exactly rushing to my aide and helping me out back then. I could have used your help -as well as Rossi."

"Rossi was good at her job and anyway, I was busy, I had my own casework-"

"Bullshit and you know it. You didn't want to help me at all. Between Spaulding and the OPR you considered me career-tainting poison, admit it."

As other agents by-passed them, Anne was quiet, not catching his eye.

Jack continued. "And if things hadn't gone your way it would have made you appear bad, right? No matter what would have actually happened to me."

"Okay, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have-"

"Look Anne, I'm tired of the apologies. Just sort your own problems out and leave me alone, okay? I've had enough."

He was about to not bother gauging her reaction and about to turn on his heel and leave her, but he couldn't. He'd known Anne and Max too many years for them to end their friendship this way, fractured as it was.

"Look Anne, are you and Max seeing anyone, professionally?"

"No," she said firmly.

"Then you should see Lisa Harris, like I suggested before."

"No!"

But Jack was undeterred. "She's good and she's non-judgemental. You and Max should see her together. I'm not the one to turn to or to help you both anymore."

Anne looked at him with what Jack would believe to be the first 'sane' look she'd used for some time. Jack could tell he was finally getting through to her. "You truly think she would help."

Jack nodded. "You wouldn't be the first around here to see her, trust me."

Looking around, Anne sighed deeply. Jack wondered if she was also tired of all this. She looked back at him, some decision having been made. "Okay, all right, you win…"

"It's not about winning -it's about what's best for you."

"First, I'll talk to Max –make sure I listen to what he thinks, and then I'll see – but definitely."

Trying not to make it sound like a threat, Jack said: "And no turning up on my doorstep."

Despite herself, she smiled broadly. "Okay, I promise that, too. Dr. Malone is no longer available for visits."

Jack smiled back sincerely, not specifically at Anne –she'd never been good at jokes- but because now he knew there was one less problem in his life.

_Thank God for that._

Xx—

Not having seen Jack arrive, Samantha hadn't known that anyone was in his office until she happened to see Jack leaving it, then Max a few moments later. The look on Jack's face told a story, and not a good one.

_Those damn Cassidys and their personal problems._

Vivian had seen them too. "Looks like more fun for Jack. He's really got his hands full with those two," she said, behind Samantha, giving her a small start. "I wonder what it is this time." She picked up Samantha's staple remover. "Just need to borrow this."

Samantha nodded. "Sure." Feeling more concerned with the troubled couple impinging on Jack and his time -and therefore her by proxy- than anything else, Samantha then shook her head. "As for them, I wouldn't know," she said, addressing her computer and getting her report to print out.

"Never mind, not our problem," Vivian said, as she sat back at her desk, picking up a rather thick file. Jack hadn't spoken her to her any further about the Cassidys.

Danny and Martin had both briefly looked up before getting back to their own work.

Just over ten minutes later, Jack appeared in the bullpen, looking quite chipper, so obviously things must have turned out well, Cassidy-wise. "Good morning, everyone. All the final reports on Renee Mitchell finished off?" he asked, getting down to business as he looked at each of his team in turn -and not spending a moment longer on Samantha, however much he would have liked to.

Vivian had finished hers off the day before. Danny handed his over; Martin signed his off with a flourish just before he gave it to Jack. Jack then looked expectantly at Samantha, taking in her fresh morning look. She'd done a good job in covering the bruise.

"I'll bring mine to you in a couple of minutes; just checking the spelling on the hard copy."

"Perfectionist," Jack quipped as he left, knowing it was a good excuse to see him.

Purposefully not watching him go, Samantha suppressed a smile.

_Don't be too offish, but don't be overly friendly. _

_Don't stand too close; don't stand too far away. _

_Amazing how circumstance can change the way your actions can be interpreted._

They'd done it before and had learned from their mistakes.

This time they'd play the game right and play it for keeps.

Xx—

Jack looked up as Samantha placed her report on his desk, then continued reading Danny's one.

"Six forty-five, by the ticket booth," he said coolly, turning a page.

"I think I can do that," Samantha said, matching him for cool factor.

Jack pretended to frown as he scanned the page, his voice gentle. "As much as I'd like to take you out for lunch today…" He'd already decided that his plan B would involve a speedy shopping trip to a furniture store.

"Not the best move, I know. Tonight, just make sure you bring lots of spare change –it's your treat, by the way," and she was out of the office before Jack could reply.

His frown vanished as he watched her leave and he smiled to himself, in anticipation.

Xx—

Samantha had seen Jack lurking near the ticket booth from some distance away. He was shuffling from foot to foot, a plastic bag in one hand, the other hand tugging at an ear. She kept focussing on him, rather than what she knew was on the other side of the road. As she got closer, he spotted her and his subsequent broad grin made her feel a touch giddy in the overly warm evening air.

"Right on time," he said, relieved as she arrived in front of him. His free hand slipped easily into hers.

Looking down at their clasped hands, Samantha smiled. "Is this a public display of affection?" Not that she minded at all. "There may be eight million people in New York but you know what happens..."

Jack shrugged –strange that she should mention it, which was exactly what the meeting with Olczyk had been about; people seeing them together. "I don't want to hide for fear someone's going to see us." _This time anyway_. "And besides, I really want to hold your hand." Remembering something, he held out the bag. "I got this for you."

"Gee, isn't it a bit early to start buying each other gifts?" Looking at the bag, Samantha was intrigued. "I didn't get you anything."

"A disposable cell phone –nothing fancy," he said, letting go of her hand and opening the bag. He pulled out the phone and gave it to her. "One for you, one for me -so we don't have to use our work phones, and just for after hours." He had remembered Samantha said about what happened last time; two can definitely play with the OPR at that game.

Samantha was impressed with his forethought as it really hadn't occurred to her. "Good thinking," she said approvingly, although she would have liked the phone in a color other than boring black and silver. She stashed the phone and bag inside her handbag.

Jack renewed his hold on her hand, eager for her touch. "It's all charged up and pre-programmed with my number; just remember to keep it topped up with credit."

"The lengths we have to go to."

"A necessary evil I suppose –and besides, I can't hang around phone booths all the time." He jerked his thumb over his shoulder. "I've got the tickets, if you want to go in-"

She shook her head. "Just a minute…"

Jack guessed why.

He'd been talking too much to keep her preoccupied as well as covering his own faint sense of nervousness.

They gazed at each other for a few heartbeats before Samantha broke the moment and looked across the road, to the bookshop. Jack followed her eyes.

It shouldn't matter.

It was just a store.

Where she'd been shot.

A bookshop that had probably changed the carpet after Samantha's blood had soaked into it.

Her free hand unconsciously went down to her thigh and she rubbed the scar through her jeans with her thumb.

Jack squeezed her hand. "Have you been back there?" he asked, softly.

Samantha shook her head. "Never really wanted to; never needed to."

There seemed no point. There were always other bookshops to go to.

"Not part of the healing process?"

"I think Lisa Harris might have felt I should, but I thought it wasn't necessary." She turned to him, her face solemn. "I've never forgotten what you did for me."

Jack looked at his sneakers. "Put you in danger, got you shot, nearly lost…" he trailed off.

She knew what he wanted to say. "But you came for me. No one else would have."

_Because… anyone else would have played it by the book._

_But the end justified the means, and I'd do it all over again if I had the choice._

Staring at the bookshop, he was surprised how vivid the memories were across the years. Remembering Barry's words again, he could still feel the gun tip on his forehead. He remembered Maria waking up, seeing him sitting across from her and their discussion afterwards; their agreement that he could return home. He remembered the girls' excitement at seeing him at home when they had wakened.

But -almost guiltily- the first thing he'd always clearly remember was Samantha, the look on her ashen face and the blood on her leg, as he stood over her.

"I thought you were going to leave me," he whispered. It had been a long, horrible moment.

She reached out and touched his cheek. "I thought I was going to, as well."

He turned his face into her palm and lightly kissed it; there was nothing else to say.

Samantha sighed at his tenderness. There were many Jack Malones, so many facets to his complicated personality. And now, finally, she could explore them at leisure. He'd said he wanted to get to know her better, but the reverse was just as true.

She'd always hoped, somewhere within her, in that deepest secret place she'd never openly admit to, that they'd get back together, but in her mind it always involved the ripping of clothes and the clashing of bodies. Actually more like the sex they'd had at her apartment, but with more satisfaction on her part, and none of the remorse that Jack had shown afterwards. Initially, the idea of actually dating him had almost made her laugh, but now, the sweetness of his idea appealed more and more.

Maybe the timing of her period had been a good thing after all.

Jack now had both her hands in his and was pulling her gently towards the theater doors. Telling her about his recent visit to Barry Mashburn could wait another day, as could the outcome of the Cassidy visit. "Come on, we should get going. The candy counter is waiting to be raided."

"I'm willing to share my popcorn."

"Happy to hear it."

"And if you're really good, I may let you get to first base."

That made Jack halt and earned an interesting look from a man also going into the theater. "Sam, at my age I'd be lucky to even remember what first base is."

"Well, I might be able to help you out there," Samantha said impishly, and getting away with it.

Jack shook his head, knowing he was doomed –but in a good way. "Damn, I knew I should have picked a movie I didn't actually _want_ to see…"

Xx--

Jack remembered that he'd only seen the foyer, not the actual movie theater. It was a medium sized one and, gratifyingly, there was only a few other people there. This suited him just fine as they sat in the back row, laden with a bucket of popcorn, sodas and chocolate bars –Samantha hadn't been kidding about what she wanted. He didn't know that she'd barely eaten all day.

He smiled to himself while Samantha gorged herself on the popcorn early in the movie. He tore his eyes away from the screen long enough to ask her if she really was planning on sharing. She then tried to stuff some into his mouth. He retaliated by grabbing her hand and playfully licked the salt off her fingers. It might have been a touch overboard, but it certainly quietened her down. He wasn't sure who enjoyed it more. It was worth it for just the look on her face, even though he later realised he'd missed Hitchcock's screen appearance.

Samantha had seen _Rear Window_ years ago with her mother and it was proving to be as good as ever. Leaning against Jack while they watched, with his arm draped around her, had been just what she'd expected. He'd surprised her over the popcorn; short of throwing some back at him, she hadn't known how to react, or how he wanted her to respond. Part of her had wanted to grab him and do some traditional back row making out with more fingertip licking, but the other part had just decided to calm down and enjoy his physical closeness. She decided to behave and from then on it had been all very chaste, very nice. She had remembered her very first date at the movies –and it hadn't been like this at all –which was a good thing.

Xx--

After the movie they'd found a small café off Waverly. Samantha decided to go all out and have some dark and sinister chocolate cake with her coffee. Jack wanted biscotti with his and wondered if his teeth would survive the crunchiness. They sat with their order at a small table in the dim lighting and chatted about the movie and –inevitably- work.

During a microscopic pause in the conversation Jack found Samantha was smiling at him.

He leant forward. "What?" he asked, finding her smile infectious.

She was almost coy as she chased some crumbs around her plate. "Can I just say how strange this feels?"

"How so?" He wondered if he knew the answer.

"Normal, -completely normal."

He was right. "And that's good."

"Well, after the last few years between us… yes, it is. Nicely normal." Complaining had been the last thing on her mind.

"It might still take a while to get used to." He reached across to take her hand in his.

She looked down at his fingers –she'd always found them elegant- as he lightly traced patterns on her hand. "I'm a fast learner..."

Jack suddenly decided that this was going to be one of his favorite cafés in New York.

Xx--

Jack didn't quite believe how soon they'd arrived at Samantha's building.

One minute they were meeting outside the Classic, the next it seemed like they were here.

And now Samantha was standing on the top step to her building, waiting for him to join her.

He looked up beyond her at the building as came up the remaining steps.

_The scene of the crime._

_The scene of _my_ crime._

He wasn't sure when he'd ever be comfortable in her apartment again.

"Okay, let's call it a night then."

Coming back to the present, Jack blinked; he'd expected her to ask him in, and he was going to say no.

"Uh, all right…" He was a bit confused at his plans being kept to. There should have been _some _enticement from her at the very least.

"I won't offer you any more coffee, or a night cap, even though the night is still young."

"Okay."

"I've had a really nice night. Thank you." She was almost tempted to shake his hand.

"So did I… I noticed they're playing a sci-fi double next week-"

"I thought they gave up playing schlock?"

Jack stared at her. "_Forbidden Planet_ and _The Day the Earth Stood Still_ are _not_ schlock-"

"Jack-"

"I mean, they're absolute classics-"

"Jack," Samantha said quietly, moving closer to him, "I think we can tick the official movie date off the list, okay?"

"Oh. I get you." Obviously a movie date next week was not part of Samantha's plans -which was a good thing, actually.

"I presume dinner is next?"

"It's tough being so predictable, but yes."

She smiled at him. "I'd like that."

"Promise not to walk out on me this time when we do?"

Samantha rolled her eyes. "And here I thought we were starting out fresh…"

Looking back up at the building, Jack nodded. "We are and I'm -" and she was right there, pressed against him, her lips against his, her hands holding his arms.

As if he was going to get away with a peck on the cheek.

He didn't have time to be surprised as he eagerly returned the kiss. Her lips were as soft as he'd remembered. His arms found their way around her body.

She pulled back slightly, her forehead resting against his. "I really can't wait you know-" Her hands had made their way down to his hips and she pushed herself against him.

"How much longer – a few more days?" Jack rasped.

"About three more should be enough."

"Three days." The Spanish Inquisition would be preferable.

"No choice in waiting."

"I'll tough it out." He found his mouth was suddenly dry.

"That's my man."

"Yes," agreed Jack, "I am." _Hook, line and sinker._

She captured his lips again, her tongue purposefully torturing him.

"See you at work," she murmured against his mouth.

"Okay," he managed, breathing in her scent.

"You can go home now."

"Good idea." But not as good as staying on the steps with Samantha in his arms.

She gently pushed him away and watched him slowly and deliberately make his way down the steps, before she decided to go inside.

Now she had a date of a different kind.

With a nice, cold shower.

She wondered if Jack would need one too.

TBC

Xx--


	13. Good Things Come Part 1

**A/N**: Again, I've split up a chapter as I wanted to post something before the WAT S6 US premiere, so if this isn't what you were expecting to read, I think the next chapter will do it... Thanks to the wonderful Mariel for her betaing, and my buddies who gently prod me along and are very patient. Also to my husband for his advice on a certain matter (the first section of mine he's read for some time).

I should rate this chapter M, just to cover myself.

* * *

**Chapter 13, Part 1**

_Good Things Come_

Xx—

_Blonde hair._

_Cascading around his face as she kissed him, nibbled him, teased him._

_Long tresses brushing against his skin, every strand a small stroke of pleasure and torment._

_He could feel her moan forming deep in her chest before she vocalised it, like a growl. She pressed down on him as he pushed her hair aside, running his fingers through its silken length. "Oh, God…" was all she managed as his hips thrust up into her..._

_The pressure was mounting and there was nothing else to do but-_

_Finally._

His own long moan woke himself up with a start. He blinked in the darkness as he wiped the sweat from his brow, focussing on the ceiling, then the quietly humming air conditioner.

_Fu-uck._

A wonderful dream.

It had been so vivid –much too vivid, actually. No need to check the evidence that he knew was there -although it hadn't happened that way for quite some time.

_A goddamn wet dream at _my_ age…_

He kicked the sheet off himself and uneasily got out of bed, glancing at the clock.

4.37 am.

_Crap_.

Xx—

It took a few minutes leaning against the sink to get back to normal, and he avoided looking at his reflection in the bathroom mirror, not knowing whether to laugh or be embarrassed at his predicament.

Rinsing out his boxers, he realised it could have been worse. The girls could have been home, wondering why he was wandering about, or Samantha could have actually been there in bed with him, no doubt highly amused at the situation as only a woman could be.

Wet dreams had been a normal part of being a teenager, but now he was a grown man.

And obviously a frustrated one at that -although not as much as he had been, a few hours earlier. It was Samantha's fault, surprising him like that outside her building. He'd been fine up until then and had felt like he been in some sort of control over himself.

However, kissing and holding herself against him, had opened the floodgates, so to speak.

He hung the boxers over the edge of the bath to dry and padded back to his room to find some fresh ones to wear. Searching through the dresser drawer, he could only find a single pair. He'd known it was time to do the laundry, but he hadn't known it was quite that serious. He checked the sheets; they were also due for a wash and it was only the sheet that covered him that really needed it; he pulled it off and chucked it to the floor.

Deciding to turn the air conditioner a touch colder, he'd just got himself comfortable on the bed again when his work phone rang.

It was Olczyk, informing Jack he had to fly to D.C. as soon as possible.

Jack heaved himself up with a groan, wondering when this night would ever end. "Tell me you're joking, Alex."

Olczyk was just as irritable. "Yeah, I'm hilarious. I think phone calls in the small hours are just great too. Get yourself on an early flight and report directly to Director Baines. He's expecting you."

_Baines_? "What the hell have I done to deserve this?"

"Nothing -you're going to help him out with something and he's requested you specifically. You have to keep a low profile and I'll cover for you. It might take a day or two, maybe more." Then he gave Jack the name of a park in D.C. with a time to meet Baines.

"So it's only _slightly_ cloak and dagger," Jack pointed out, feeling like he was in a Le Carré novel.

"Unofficially official."

"Or officially unofficial… Okay, I get you. Should I take someone?"

Olczyk paused, considering this. "He did mention it would be okay and it may help get you back here sooner. Someone you can rely on and trust."

"And that's all you're telling me-"

"Damn it Jack, you owe Baines your job and you know you damn well owe me for that Cassidy bullshit yesterday."

Jack found himself nodding. He'd heard that Director Baines had been at the forefront in Washington in giving him back his job and Baines himself had phoned Vivian to break the news. As for Olczyk, it certainly seemed like he'd conveniently skimmed over Anne's 'complaint'. _Time to settle the debts_, _then_. "I'll get going."

Olczyk grunted. "If you could be so kind… Now, I've got to go and calm down a cranky wife."

After Olczyk had rung off, Jack snapped his phone shut in protest. He got off the bed and paused a moment, thinking.

He knew just who to take.

Xx--

Samantha was rubbing her eyes, not appreciating the wake-up call she'd just got, even though it was Jack. "You're going where?" she asked groggily.

"D.C. -with Danny," Jack said, waiting for the information to sink in.

Samantha was suddenly wide awake. "_What_? Why him? You always take him!"

"Well, I can't exactly take you-"

"The hell you can't! You took him to Iraq, Mexico-"

"I took you to Alaska-"

"And kept me at arms' length the entire time!"

"You just went to Rockport with Martin-"

"And I forgot to thank you for that one, by the way," she said in a heavy tone.

"In my own defence, at the time I thought I was doing you both a favor-"

But Samantha wasn't finished about Danny. "This is _so_ not fair! He gets all the good trips…"

Jack had prepared himself for this. He sighed as he leaned against the taxi, waiting for Danny. "We just had a case together; I said we'd need to rotate."

"Then why not take Martin. He's the Washington boy."

"Yes, of course, take the Deputy Director's son, very low key." As if Jack didn't have enough reasons not to take Martin as it was.

"So why are you going?" Samantha asked resignedly, giving up the pointless argument.

"Don't know -couldn't say if I did, you know that."

She did. "When will you be back?"

"Again, I don't know... Look, I'm sorry, but I'll try and keep in touch, keep your new phone handy, and I'll see you when we return."

"There's not a lot of choice in this, is there?"

"No, and just act surprised when you're told."

"I'm going to miss you, you know."

"I'm missing you right now, sweetheart."

"I like the sound of that-"

"Gotta go," Jack said, cutting her off as Danny came bounding down his apartment building steps, hair sticking up, not noticing Jack discreetly putting the phone away. "About time, Superman," Jack commented as he opened the taxi door for him.

"As if you gave me lots of warning -I usually like to take my time getting ready," Danny retorted, as Jack slid in beside him. "And it's not Batman-Superman anymore –you're Steve McGarrett and I'm Danny Williams."

"Caught some _Hawaii Five-O _reruns recently, I take it?" Jack asked as the taxi pulled out into the street.

"Absolute legends."

Jack knew where Danny was heading with this. "I'm not going to say it."

"I don't know what you're talking about." Danny's small smirk was a dead giveaway.

"You know I know what –that phrase McGarrett uses. We are officers of the law. Be serious."

"Jack, it's nearly six o'clock in the morning and you want me to be serious? _This_ is serious," he said, pulling a large book out of his holdall.

Jack checked out the spine. "Studying for the bar again? Good for you."

"I thought I might have some time on the plane trips."

"It's an hour flight, by the time you open it we'll have touched down… Do you know if I can get some clothes at LaGuardia?" Jack asked, completely changing subject.

The younger agent was amused. "Such as?"

"Boxers –if you must know." At least he'd had some dry-cleaned shirts in his wardrobe, so he hadn't needed to worry about that particular wardrobe problem.

"I guess so, there's always a traveller in need." Danny made himself more comfortable in his seat. "It's a bachelor thing, you know –it's easier to buy new clothes than do the laundry."

Jack looked over at him -obviously he was dealing with a master. "That tells me so much more about you than I need to know."

"Welcome to the dark side," Danny grinned, opening his book.

Jack looked out the window as he mused on this. The idea of being called a bachelor appealed more than being a widower or a divorcé. Although he knew that Samantha wouldn't like that particular label for him because of the old fashioned connotations that went with it.

He gazed up at the passing buildings in the early morning light and thought about his and Samantha's successful date, a smile touching his lips.

Xx—

Samantha thought she'd be fine after Jack's call. It made sense to take Danny, but she realised she was only fooling herself. She was pissed off and it was all Jack's fault. Being away with him in D.C. -even for work- would have been wonderful. She hadn't really suffered from any PMT this time around, but it was feeling like all her pre-menstrual crabbiness had been saved up; someone or something was going to have it unleashed upon them.

Martin would be a good target but it wouldn't be totally fair as he hadn't earned it –recently. And Vivian… well, Samantha wasn't brave enough to be angry with her for no apparent reason.

She looked at the clock; there was no point going back to sleep, so she might as well take her anger and frustration out on a morning jog and get it out of her system.

Xx--

Martin had just put his things on his desk when Samantha arrived in the bullpen. They exchanged the usual morning pleasantries. "Is it just us today?" he asked, gesturing to the other desks.

"I don't know, maybe everyone else is late," Samantha said, logging on to her computer.

Martin made a noise of agreement and turned his attention back to his desk. They didn't wait long as Vivian soon arrived, explaining that she'd just been with Olczyk and that Jack and Danny were in D.C., plus Olczyk already had a case for them. "And that is all I know about their mystery trip, so don't ask any questions as I don't know anything else," Vivian said. After putting a man's picture up on the whiteboard, she turned, catching a look Martin was giving Samantha. "Seriously, I don't. Come on -let's look at this new case."

It was the time of the 48 Hour Film Festival, and a Kerr Darrow had gone missing during the editing of his film.

"No surprise there –the entrants always cause some sort of problem each year," Martin pointed out.

Having heard of various chaotic activities, Samantha had to agree. "But this must be the first time for us to be involved –what's up?"

"This guy isn't actually part of it, which is all we really have at present." Vivian tapped her finger thoughtfully against her chin. "Hang on a second," and she went over to the far side of the office.

Samantha looked enquiringly at Martin who shrugged back.

"Is Victor in D.C. right now?" Samantha fished.

Martin didn't look too surprised at the question. "No, they went on vacation last week."

"Europe again?"

"No, it seems Mom is bored with Tuscany, so this year they've decided to rent a place in the East Hamptons."

Samantha nodded politely, wondering how anyone in the world could actually be 'bored with Tuscany'. She'd love to have the chance to try that out one day and see if it was possible. "Nice," was all she could come up with.

Martin's mouth twitched and he leaned towards her, knowing what she was up to. "But if Dad was in D.C., I'd be straight on the phone to find out what was happening with the guys," he said, confidentially.

Caught out, Samantha smiled back, just as Viv returned with a young, dark haired man.

"This is Agent Kitagawa; he's a rookie on Andrew's team. I met him the other day lecturing one of the technicians about European art house movies." Kitagawa smiled, looking slightly stunned at being the centre of attention. "I think he may be of use to us so we've borrowed him." She introduced Martin and Samantha and then cut to the chase with him: "What do you know about the 48 Hour Film Fest?"

Vivian had chosen well. It seemed that Kitagawa's mother worked in the Mayor's Office of Film and Television and he'd helped out over various past summers. "That was before the Fest became too big and mainstream, like Sundance has –in some people's opinion." He knew of Kerr Darrow. "He's one of the first 48 Hour film-makers involved with running and competing in the Fest, but he's totally anti what the festival has become, believes there are too many rules involved and permits needed." It appeared that Darrow had decided to go solo this year. "He wants to bring back the true guerrilla 48 Hour style of film-making -completely unsanctioned and unofficial."

"Sounds like he kept his word." Vivian decided to put Kitagawa with Samantha to check out Darrow's editing suite and –unenviably- what was promising to be miles of footage for clues. Martin would be staying in the office; Vivian would be checking out the 48 Hour organisers.

"So how much of a rookie are you, Agent Kitagawa?" Samantha asked when they were finally on their way to the elevators, as she hadn't really seen him around the floor.

Kitagawa managed to look embarrassed as he kept pace with her. "Ah, since Monday, this is my first placing since Quantico… and my name's Jackson, by the way."

"Oh?" said Samantha, wishing she didn't know what was coming.

"Yeah, but you can call me Ja-"

"No, it's okay, Jackson will do just fine."

_It's hard enough not to think of him as it is._

Xx--

Mysterious meetings in parks were not one of Jack's favorite things in the world. They'd arrived early for the meeting and were sitting on a park bench, waiting. At LaGuardia, Jack had left Danny sitting with his tome while he went on a boxer hunt –successfully as it turned out- and being by himself, had been able to make a couple of phone calls –a favor-ridden one to Stevie and her parents, and a quick one to Frank, promising to see him when he got back.

Danny nudged him and tipped his head, indicating Baines approaching. Jack almost felt they needed a secret password or phrase. "Not cloak and dagger, my ass," he grumbled.

"Play it cool, McGarrett," Danny muttered under his breath, adjusting his dark shades.

Jack shot him a withering look. "Shut it, Danno."

Baines offered them each a handshake and a sincere smile. He suggested that they take a walk through the park while he gave them an explanation why they were there. Jack was fine with that, as long as there were trees to keep them out of the Washington morning sun.

Xx—

Martin looked askance at the bouquet of flowers, distracting him from the last of his credit card and bank checks. They'd arrived just before noon and now sat on the bullpen's table, radiating color.

_Man, that James must have shares in a florist's at the rate he's going_. Pink, red, yellow, orange… He tried to remember the name of the flowers –gerbils, garbers… gerberas –never one of his mother's favorites, although Martin always found them cheerful to look at. In this case he felt he may have needed sunglasses to protect himself from the brightness.

Now fully staring at the flowers, he found himself pleased for Samantha that things seemed to be going well for her and James. He wondered if he might be able to do something for the two of them, a gesture of reconciliation. Work had been fine, but on the personal level it could sometimes still be dicey with her.

He finished off his checks and surreptitiously knocked back a couple of pills, before phoning Vivian with his results. Then he phoned his mother, which he'd needed to do anyway.

Xx—

Friday 9.21pm

The discreet ring surprised her; she still wasn't used to it. "Jack! Hey, how's it going?"

"Can you talk?"

She moved out of Darrow's chaotic work space. Luckily Kitagawa had been listening to some audio with headphones on and hadn't noticed. "For now, it's fine."

"We just stopped by the hotel room to freshen up and go over some notes; Danny's in the bathroom and I've come out to get some ice as an excuse."

"I'm beginning to think of you as my telephone boyfriend."

"It's getting like that."

"And thanks for the flowers. They're quite-" she paused, trying to find an appropriate word, "-spectacular. I put them on my desk when I dropped in to the bullpen and they really brighten the place up." Martin had grinned at her, making a comment about how nice and colorful they were, and that James had certainly got the message about her and flowers. Samantha had smiled too, thinking that James certainly _had_ got the message. There hadn't been a card, but she knew who had really sent them.

Jack was pleased. "You know why I picked gerberas, right?"

"As if you need to ask. It was a lovely thought."

"I should send the FBI my bill."

"How's the... thing going?" Samantha asked, tactfully.

Jack was not happy about it. It involved a senator's son, who happened to be a close friend of Baines' son from college. The senator's son had gone missing after a party the previous evening. Jack had been called in when, the investigators in D.C., tiptoeing around as they were, failed to make any progress. Danny and Jack found that they were there as much to help out as they were to keep an eye on the other team, who didn't appreciate the outside involvement. It was all ridiculously hush-hush. "To be frank, people in Washington tend to think the world revolves around them and that the universe is acutely attuned to any happenings in it."

"Are you sure you're not in Hollywood?"

"That could possibly be more fun." He got some ice from the dispenser into a bucket. "I should go, or Danny will come looking. How's your case?"

"Just finishing up; Viv's having better luck and we're nearly on our way back for some questioning."

"Sounds like fun." He dropped his voice as he started to walk back to the room. "Well, sweet dreams when you can get them. I'll see you soon," he said, softly.

"I hope so."

Xx—

Samantha had decided to help Kitagawa write his first real incident report and he'd promised to help out with some filing one day in return. It was before noon on Sunday and they were hunched over a laptop in the bullpen. Work was keeping her occupied as Saturday had passed in a blur of questioning suspects and she hadn't heard from Jack at all. She'd been dying to tell him that this month's period was happily finished, and had idly wondered if it was the type of news you could text someone.

"Thanks for helping me with this," Kitagawa said for the thousandth time.

Not minding in the least, Samantha knew it would have to pass by Jack's scrutiny, and so would have to be written the way he liked his reports done. She had grown fond of the rookie during the case, in a younger brother kind of way, and she was beginning to think he had a crush on her.

"We're nearly there. You're lucky it was a fairly straightforward case." It had been a committee of abductors, all involving the festival organisers. Going through all that footage hadn't pulled anything, but the suspects were trying to cut deals and blame everyone else –but after the Fest was finished, if the FBI could possibly swing it. Like Vivian said: "As if."

Kitagawa pushed himself back a little from the table. "You know, I have to admire Darrow's vision. I'm into directors and cinematography, so I get where he's coming from. A purist's view."

"Right," Samantha agreed absently. Unfortunately Darrow's former, fellow colleagues hadn't felt the same; he'd been seen as more of a hindrance they'd wanted out of the way.

"I mean, take some of the older directors –like DeMille, Lean, Fellini, even Hitchcock." Samantha's ears pricked up. "My friends and I watched a couple of his films the other night and you should have heard them arguing afterwards about which were his better films, pre-America or after, and if he had sold out or not."

"Which films did you see?"

"_Rear Window_ and _Vertigo, _at the Classic."

"Oh right, you went the other night?" Samantha tried to sound offhand while desperately searching her memory for someone who had looked like him at the theatre.

"It's the usual Wednesday night out for us -for my friends anyway, I haven't been able to hang out with them much for some time."

_Shit_. The night before they went. The night they might have gone. It was too close for comfort.

She was so relieved she didn't notice a figure looming over them. Kitagawa did. He looked up, his face blanching somewhat. "Ah, good morning… sir."

"It's good to see the FBI has such devoted agents," Jack said casually. Leaning against the table, wondering who the guy was and what the hell was going on. He'd dropped in to the office and hadn't expected to see Samantha, and certainly hadn't expected to find her huddled over a laptop in the bullpen with what couldn't possibly be an agent as he only looked about 15 years old. He also wondered why Samantha hadn't answered a text message he'd sent a couple of hours earlier.

Samantha fought to keep the look of delight off her face. There he was, large as life, with his jacket casually hooked over his shoulder and no tie. She made the introductions, trying not to look at the top of his shirt, where a small hint of Jack's skin and chest hair peeked. This was rarely seen in the office, as it was usually shielded by his buttoned-up shirt and tie. "He's been here a few days and has been helping us out on a case. He's in Andrew's team."

The normally talkative Kitagawa had clammed up; he'd heard about Jack Malone, but had only seen him from a distance during the week. He hoped one day to be on his team, but he gathered he'd just have to get in the queue.

"It's been a busy few days," Jack said, extending his hand to Kitagawa to shake. "It's always hard to keep up with other units' team members." He looked pointedly at Samantha. "Have you finished? I'm going to need a catch-up."

Samantha wasn't intentionally trying to put him off, but had to say: "There's not much to go, can you wait a bit?"

Not having much of a choice, and surprising himself by not going back to his office, Jack went to the other side of the table and pulled up a chair. He leaned back into it as he looked at the whiteboard and read the timeline. "A happy ending, I hope?"

"Yes, and you can read all about it when you get the reports… No, Jackson, just because the spellchecker says it's spelled correctly doesn't mean it's the right word," Samantha pointed out.

Kitagawa gasped nervously and corrected his mistake.

"Yeah, I'm a stickler for that," Jack said, flicking his thumbnail on the edge of the table. He'd been waiting to see Samantha for days and now he had to share her with a young man -who didn't even look like he could shave. He looked over at the flowers he'd sent, approving the color-scheme; Stevie's mother had done a nice job organising it for him.

Kitagawa swallowed. "Yes sir."

Samantha threw a bemused look at Jack. "How was D.C.?"

Jack shrugged. "Politics, intrigue and correctness." The look he threw back at Samantha said, quite blatantly, that he'd rather have been doing other things. Returning the look, Samantha found herself grateful that Kitagawa was busy concentrating and the office was quiet.

Kitagawa looked up sharply at Jack's comment. "I saw a news report this morning about some senator's son that they found in a bad way. Was that why you were there?"

Jack stopped his flicking. "I can neither confirm nor deny that," he said seriously, catching Samantha's raised eyebrows.

"Yes sir." Chastened, the rookie put his head down.

Slightly peeved that everyone else knew what was going on except her, Samantha turned her attention back to the laptop. If it were on the news, then Jack could tell her what was going on later. "And what plans have you got for the rest of the day?" A fairly ordinary, normal question from a colleague.

Scrutinizing his thumbnail, Jack said nonchalantly, "I have some stuff to catch up on, but I've got a meeting at 6pm with a friend."

"Sounds nice. Going out for dinner?"

"I think so. I've been waiting... a period of time to catch up with them." He felt he'd put the inference quite subtly.

"I'm sure the time is just right for that," said Samantha, shooting an unmistakeable look at him.

Jack stopped his thumbnail inspection. Just what he'd been hoping to hear. Now he definitely had things to do and places to go. He got up. "Just leave the report on my desk. I'd better contact my friend with the plans now I'm back, come to think of it," and he left, but not after giving a Samantha a quick, yet penetrating glare.

_Lucky I'd made no plans for the afternoon with him, then_, Samantha thought, watching him leave. Still, that meant she had time to be ready for tonight. She heard Kitagawa exhaling loudly, noticeably in relief. "Jackson, did Agent Malone make you nervous?"

Glad the alpha male had gone, the young agent wiped his clammy hands on his legs. "Well, I've heard a lot about him… What was all that 'friend' business?" Kitagawa leaned in, conspiratorially. "Is he gay or something?" he whispered.

Taken aback, Samantha was momentarily at a loss for words. "N-no, no," she managed, thinking that at least he'd innocently picked the right woman to answer that question. "He's definitely straight, but he does prefer to keep his private life just that."

_And me in it._

Xx--

tbc in Part 2


	14. Good Things Come Part 2

**A/N**: Okay, without any more delay, here is my next chapter. Big hug to Mariel for looking after me during my various crises and editing, Diane for support and to my readers who have the patience of saints. This is not the final chapter either, I still have more to write!

So, grab some chocolate, your beverage of choice and put your feet up.

**Disclaimer**: Not mine, just for playing, these are CBS' characters.

**Rating**: It's M, and it definitely _is_ this time. Don't blame me if you get offended...

* * *

**Chapter 13**

**Good Things Come**

**Part 2**

Xx--

She waited until the report was done and Kitagawa on his way home, before checking her phone for messages from Jack. The cell had been in her desk drawer inside her handbag, and she hadn't known that he'd even texted earlier, as she'd been busy helping with the report. The message said he was just about to leave D.C. and wondered if she would be free later. She couldn't do much about it now, and felt guilty a moment for not having her phone handy, but now she was much more interested in his second message:

_Cnr Cntrl park sth & 5th. 6pm_

Knowing exactly where he meant, she wondered what restaurant he might choose near there and how she should dress. Aside from the usual landmarks, she knew that was the area where the horse-drawn carriages were.

_But he wouldn't do that... _

_Would he?_

Xx--

He would.

"You have _got_ to be joking…" said Samantha, not as horrified as she should have been. "You want us to go on one of _those_?"

Jack looked at the horses and carriages, wondering what the problem was. "I thought it would be romantic." And a nice, neutral place for a conversation that was overdue.

Way overdue.

"Isn't it for tourists?"

"Says who? Go on, admit it, you've always wanted to go on one."

Samantha looked blank, lost for words. "Ah… I've never actually thought about it."

"Come on, indulge me. There's not many left to choose from." Summer, Central Park in the evening, hordes of sightseers –he was lucky there were any to choose from at all.

Samantha shifted her feet and looked around. "It's just so public -you know we just missed Kitagawa and his friends at the movies the other night?"

Jack deflated a little at Samantha's reality check. "Okay… we'll become shut-ins then -but after the ride." Before, it had been keeping their affair secret mainly from Maria, with work being a bit of after-thought; now, work was the main reason, and because of what happened before, they had to be doubly cautious. "We'll get one with a pull-up canopy... thing"

"Okay," Samantha relented. "Can we go on the one with the grey horse?"

Once inside the small carriage for two, a little more out of the public eye, Jack turned in his seat towards Samantha.

Her hair was up –which he'd always loved- and she was in a light blouse and linen pants. He felt slightly embarrassed at turning up looking so casual, underdressed in his cargoes, t-shirt and unbuttoned shirt, but it didn't fit in with his later plans.

She looked beautiful and he knew her glow wasn't all due to the early evening light. He could have stared at her sitting there all evening, drinking the sight in.

In turn, Samantha wondered what he was up to now. She'd expected him to be a little more smartly dressed than he was, for a start. _First a carriage ride –then what, exactly?_

Taking both her hands in his, he laced his fingers through hers and cleared his throat. "I just want to say… how very sorry I am."

This was unexpected. "Jack, you don't have-"

Looking up from their entwined hands, he gazed into her eyes, his face solemn. "Hear me out, please... I'm sorry for everything… Every time I pushed you away or said something that hurt you... or when I should have said something, but didn't."

"It's okay, you've apologised before-"

But Jack carried on. "And I'm especially sorry for the way I treated you when I came to your apartment. I behaved badly and should have never have done that to you. You deserved so much better than that. I don't even know why it came about."

"At the time I didn't really want to stop you…"

"I'd still be happier if you let me apologise and forgive me. I can't change the past and what decisions I've made, but-" He squeezed her hands in emphasis, and continued, "you mean _so_ much to me, and I'm not afraid to admit it to myself, or to you."

It was Samantha's turn to look at their hands. "When you phoned that morning, asking me to drop James, wanting to go out with me… wanting to know me better -I wasn't quite sure what to make of it all."

Jack couldn't blame her. "It took me a while to get some things sorted out in my head and frankly, I realised I didn't want to waste any more time. I said I wanted to get to know you better, but you're right… I _know _you. And I want you to forgive me before we go any further."

Holding his gaze, Samantha knew what to say. "Apology accepted, and I do forgive you."

Jack exhaled, feeling better the weight had lifted. He picked up one of her hands and pressed his lips to the back of it. "Thank you, Sam… and there's something else you should know…" he said, hesitating.

The sound of the horse's hooves was the only thing intruding on them now, as Samantha sat silently, waiting for him to speak again.

It wasn't the words that Jack was having trouble with –he'd been thinking about what to say all day.

It was the sudden rush of emotions that he was feeling, and they were all for Samantha. "It's just that… I've loved you longer than you know, more than you'll ever know, and possibly harder than _I've_ ever known… At the restaurant, I said I loved you once, and saying it like that hurt you, but honestly, it just wasn't true to say it was in the past and it's not true now. I don't think I ever truly stopped. I want to be with you."

Knowing it wasn't enough, he still felt he had to wait a bit longer before telling her the words he really wanted and needed to say.

As for Samantha, hearing Jack say anything like this made her almost dizzy. He put his arm around her as she nestled, sighing against him. "Jack, it's all I've ever wanted. I want us to be together, so much."

They sat a few moments -almost feeling the weights being lifted over what had been said- the carriage gently swaying as it travelled along.

"Can we forget what happened at your apartment?" he asked quietly. He didn't want to break the mood, but it was something he wanted to expunge from their history. "We can start that aspect over again."

"Well, I don't mind it hard, strong and fast, but I insist on being able to enjoy myself more."

"And I will insist on lasting a lot longer than 2 minutes-"

"I think it was more like a minute and a half."

Jack chuckled, enjoying the banter. "I can definitely promise you more than that." He lowered his face to hers. "Much, much more."

He'd wanted those lips of hers since the taste in front of her building. After catching up with her in the office, she'd consumed his thoughts all afternoon while he'd occupied himself.

All he wanted to do was to hold her tightly to him and abandon himself while he kissed her, deeply.

So he did.

Xx—

His plans for the evening far from over, Jack reluctantly turned his attention away from Samantha's lips and asked the carriage driver to stop. They left the park by the nearest exit and Jack hailed a taxi. Samantha, still a little breathless, was curious to know which restaurant they might be going to, so she was surprised when Jack gave his address to the driver.

"I take it dinner is off?" Not that she minded this latest change of plans.

"No. Sitting across from you in a restaurant for a couple of hours would drive me crazy, so I'm cooking."

"You are?"

"You're the one that said being in public would be a bad thing, and if you think that you're going home afterwards, you've got another thing coming."

"So to speak."

"Definitely -so to speak," Jack said, with a glint in his eye that Samantha knew quite well.

_About time_.

"You're very sure of yourself," she observed, squeezing his hand as it lay on her lap.

"If I am, then it's because of one thing…" His smile was blinding. "I'm just very sure of us."

Xx—

Jack had rolled up his sleeves and was busy in the kitchen. He was slicing and chopping vegetables for his stir-fry as Samantha wandered barefoot around the living room, a flute of champagne in her hand. The room didn't look too different from when she'd babysat the girls, but thankfully there was one noticeable difference. The pictures of Maria were all gone. No doubt, they would be returned when the girls came back from their holiday, but for now, Samantha didn't mind at all –it helped her relax.

"You can put on some music if you like," Jack called out.

Liking the idea, Samantha got to work and finally found several things to play. "Are _Best of_ CDs all you have?" she asked with a hint of amusement, returning to the kitchen as the music filtered through.

"It's easier than replacing my original records. What did you choose?"

"Steely Dan, Al Green, Frank Sinatra, U2. I put it on random."

Jack raised his eyebrows as he dealt to some broccoli. "That's an interesting mixture."

She took a sip of champagne. "And James Taylor. My sister played him all the time one year; she really got into him."

Jack kept his face neutral –that particular CD had been one of Maria's favorites. He'd lost most of the collection to Chicago, save for a few he managed to pull out of the box before it went. Of course it was all now back together –including some new ones Maria had bought, obviously for her new life. These days Jack never seemed to have the time he'd like to listen to anything. Typically, Hannah and Kate always hated his taste, if he was actually allowed the luxury to choose. He was suddenly reminded of his father and himself -the idea of what musically goes around, comes around. "Sounds good," he said, recognising Al Green as he began slicing up a carrot.

Samantha leaned against the bench, watching Jack at work. If someone had told her she'd be doing this a few months ago, she would have laughed it off. "And here I thought we'd be having dinner out and then you'd drop me off at my apartment -alone again, according to the Malone rules of dating."

"Well, hardly –especially after that piece of news you gave me in the bullpen." She opened her mouth as Jack popped in a carrot stick. "And I do like to keep you on your toes," he said, watching her crunch on it.

"You're good at that," she said, snatching a piece of carrot to return the favor to him.

If someone had told her a few years ago how much she'd enjoy this little domestic scene, she'd have thought they were quite insane. Now, it was just what she wanted.

But, only with Jack.

"Three weeks," he suddenly said, pushing the carrots to one side of the cutting board with the broccoli.

"Sorry?"

Jack started to slice some zucchini. "Three weeks before the girls come back –if their grandparents haven't kidnapped them to spite me. I'm all yours until then."

"And then…?"

Purposefully concentrating on his task, Jack continued. "And then circumstances might change a bit, but nothing too serious. I'm sure the girls will be fine. They enjoyed it when you came over that night." He had it all planned out. He'd sit them both down, have a chat, and then maybe Samantha could come over for a few visits and they could start doing things together –like a family. It was beginning to sound idyllic.

Samantha could only nod dumbly as she took a large gulp of champagne.

The girls.

She'd been so wrapped up in Jack that she hadn't quite thought that far ahead. She had, once upon a time, that dream every mistress has that their married man might leave his wife -and usually, children- for her. She hadn't given much thought recently that the aspect of being with Jack included Hanna and Kate; even when she'd been looking at the spaces where Maria's pictures had been, all her thinking had gone into Jack and being with him.

_Christ, my brain's been on a different level this whole time._

"Sam?" Jack was looking at her.

_I'll just have to believe it if he does_. "Oh yes… That'll be great… We'll work something out," she said, welcoming the distraction of a new song playing. She turned her head to listen.

"Nothing to worry about. Trust me." Zucchini finished, Jack walked over to the fridge to get the chicken. "This particular marinade flavor is something I've never tried be-" he began, but found Samantha was no longer in the kitchen.

Curious as to what was up, he returned the chicken to the fridge, and then looked at the pile of vegetables. Suddenly dinner didn't seem so important.

_Nothing that can't wait. _Guessing Samantha would be in the living room, he washed his hands, grabbed his glass and the champagne bottle.

She was there, standing in front of the sofa, staring at the stereo. He knew the song now playing -U2's _One_.

"That's a great song," he murmured, wondering about the significance to her as he put the glass and bottle on the coffee table.

"I had to come in when I heard it. It's sad… but so beautiful." She looked towards him as he came to stand close by her. "Do you remember when they were playing it, in that bar?"

Baffled, Jack had to shake his head. "How long ago are we talking about?"

"It was after the McKuen case, that patent lawyer we found in the nick of time. Afterwards we all went out for a drink."

Jack searched his memory. It had been in the last few days of July, 2001. "Yes, of course, it was just before…us."

And he knew that it had been a week later when he'd kissed Samantha for the first time.

Samantha continued. "You'd gone up to the bar-"

"It was crowded, noisy and we were all absolutely exhausted."

"And I came to help you carry the drinks back."

"You squeezed in beside me."

Samantha nodded, thinking back. "They were playing this song." She put her champagne glass down, next to Jack's and turned to fully face him.

"I don't remember that, but I clearly recall you pressed against my side." Also the all too familiar sinking feelings he'd been having for some time, whenever she'd been near.

"I remember you looking at me –_really_ looking."

"I just couldn't look away." He'd lost himself in her brown eyes.

Just like right now.

"I wanted to touch you," he whispered.

"I wanted you to touch me."

"Show me."

Not wanting to break eye contact for a second, she took his right hand in hers, laying it gently against her cheek, completing what he had begun a week ago outside his apartment. His hands felt as strong as ever and she knew they were capable of the gentlest touch; she ached to feel them on her skin. Then she carefully moved his hand across her ear and along her hair. She knew he would enjoy letting it down and threading it through his fingers, like he'd used to.

Jack was silent, watching his guided movements. Trailing his hand down to the back of her neck, she then left it there as she slid her open palm down his forearm, along his fine hair. Slowly and deliberately, she took his other hand and laid it on her shoulder, before bringing it down, lingering a few moments on her breast, down to her stomach, then she brought it around to let it rest in the small of her back, causing him to hold her closely. Now with free hands, she put them behind his neck, pulling his face down to hers. She began kissing him, softly and longingly.

Just them.

No disturbances.

No rushing.

Jack began to run his hands up and down Samantha's back, feeling her body as it melded against his as they stood. They would have remained there longer if Samantha hadn't pushed him gently towards the sofa.

Jack turned them both around and maneuvered a step back, pulling her against him as he lay down and backwards, propped up against the sofa arm, Samantha fitting snugly between his legs.

But this wasn't where Jack was planning staying with Samantha.

"Come to the bedroom," Jack whispered after a few moments, his face buried in her neck and perfume, feeling one of Samantha's hands under his shirt.

"No," breathed Samantha. "The sofa is fine," and she stopped Jack from saying anything further by urgently kissing him. She wasn't quite sure why she felt that way.

But Jack's mind was rapidly ticking over. He could feel a frown forming on his brow.

_That isn't right… There's more to it than that…_

He must have been quite distracted as Samantha noticed it. She was about to make a comment when a spilt second later Jack had it figured out.

He pulled away. "It's a new bed… Well, new-ish."

She blinked. "Huh?"

"Maria took the old one with her, said she needed it for her back or something. Which meant I had to buy one after she left. It's a new bed," he further reiterated.

"So, no-one else…"

"Just me… It's virgin," he felt he had to explain further. "Want to take care of that with me?" he asked.

"Oh, I think so…"

"Can you give me a second or two?"

Hot and definitely bothered, Samantha could only nod, impressed with Jack's insight as he extricated himself. She had just drained the rest of her champagne when Jack returned, taking her by the hand as he led her to the bedroom.

When she went in, she could see why Jack wanted the time; he'd lit some candles for atmosphere, obviously remembering she was a pushover for them.

"So what do you think?" Jack asked, proud of his new pieces of furniture and eager for her approval. It was dark wood, very solid looking and had a new smell to it.

"I've never seen your bedroom before."

"I thought the girls would have given you a tour when you babysat?"

"They did, but your room wasn't one I actually wanted to see."

"Fair enough. Do you like it? Laura -Stevie's mom- organised the delivery for me when I was in D.C." She'd also over-enthusiastically installed everything in his room; he'd arrived home to find it all set up for him, complete with his possessions in sensible drawers. He wasn't sure where his old dresser was currently situated, but it didn't matter right now.

Samantha was impressed and had guessed that there may have been outside involvement. "Nice –but I can't tell if you've been queer-eyed or extremely made over."

Indicating the sheets on the turned back bed, Jack said, "The thread count is through the roof and I now have more bed cushions than any sane man should." He'd thrown them in a corner, where they would now permanently live.

Running her hands over the sheets, Samantha sat on the edge of the bed and made herself comfortable. "Nice, firm mattress… Enough sales talk, you've sold me."

Jack could only stare, appreciating the vision he thought he'd never see on his bed, let alone in this room.

He knew it would be different.

They didn't have the guilt.

He came and knelt in front of her, holding her face, showering her in delicate kisses. "Whatever you want, Sam, whatever you want me to do…"

"Just love me," she whispered.

Wanting nothing more than to do just that, Jack smiled and began to slowly take out the clips holding Samantha's hair up before slipping them in his pocket. Watching as the tresses fell onto her shoulders, he sighed and slowly ran his fingers through the blondeness. "Beautiful," he murmured, his gaze returning to her eyes.

Years ago he'd said that to her and then, he hadn't been the first or the last, but it was only right now, that word coming from the man she honestly loved, that Samantha truly believed she was.

Reaching out a hand to his lips, she brushed her thumb across them. "Shhhh -we've got years to catch up on," she said, pulling him towards her and the bed.

Xx—

Clothes lay on the floor –slowly and leisurely shed.

Two bodies, finally naked, stretched out on cool sheets.

Time was their luxury and they were taking as much as they needed.

Lying facing each other side by side, Jack slowly ran his hand over Samantha's hip and along her thigh, his fingers lightly sweeping past his first real view of her scar, feeling the softness of her skin. Even in the muted candlelight he'd noticed some new freckles dusted along her shoulders and arms, and he wanted to kiss them, claim them. She in turn observed how much trimmer he was –compared to the Jack of yesteryear- as she ran the back of her hand across his chest and stomach, and how some silver hair had appeared on his chest. She didn't mind it at all; it complemented the wonderful grey sides at his temples. Wanting to run her fingers through them, she drew his face in to kiss him. He responded by pulling her over and, as they were no longer separated by their clothes, they both sighed at the full contact.

Revelling in the feel of his warm body against hers, Samantha couldn't get enough of his mouth, his lips and -_dear god_- that velvet tongue of his writhing with hers. She could have enjoyed it all night long, if she hadn't known what was to come later.

He wanted her passive and relaxed -the only reason being that he wanted to please her without any gratification for himself. It would be atonement for the last time. _This_ time it was all about her pleasure, first and foremost; he was happy to do all the work.

Things remembered from the past can become distorted, Jack knew that. He may have not remembered every time he and Samantha had made love years ago, but he'd always remembered the general experience, often –as time had passed- tinged with regret and if he allowed himself, longing.

But his skin remembered.

Memories can be reawakened.

Like the sensation as Samantha's hands ran down his side, raking the backs of her fingernails along his ribs to his hips and the sensation that made his breath catch and hiss as he felt a fingernail trail over his hip and then along his cock.

Like the feel of her breasts against his palms as he cupped them, dipping his head to capture the hardened nipples between his teeth and hearing her satisfied moans.

The memory of what it felt like to be inside her –to be renewed later.

Right now, his memories were alive with the tastes and scent and sounds of her.

Sensing Jack wanted to take the lead, Samantha was glad to be spoiled, although every time he pulled away, she wanted his mouth back on hers -so she could look into his eyes and hungrily kiss him again and again.

He had moved to kneel beside her, his hands were stroking her skin, fingers exploring her, lightly probing, his thumb gently rubbing her clit, watching her back arch with want and desire for him.

"Oh god, now… please," Samantha moaned. She could feel his hardness pressed against her and it was driving her crazy. She couldn't wait anymore -as far as she was concerned, the long foreplay was over.

Moving further down the bed, Jack drew Samantha's knees up, and slid his hands between them, parting her legs. He kissed the insides of her thighs, nipping and licking the smooth skin. Samantha propped herself up on her elbows to watch his face, knowing where his tongue heading and what it was about to do. As much as she wanted that-

"No…later… I need you _now_." She couldn't hide the desperation in her voice.

Jack was surprised; one thing he definitely knew was that Samantha had loved him going down on her. He smiled in acquiescence. "Okay," and he leaned over to the new side table, and fished out a condom from an unopened box.

Samantha stared. It was yet another interruption and it felt like he'd been starting and stopping all evening. "You don't need that," she said, watching him tear the packet open.

He felt it was part of his apology. "I'll stay harder longer and I'll be the one cleaning up in the bathroom this time." And anyway, without it, he'd be lucky to last ten seconds, let alone a minute and a half at this rate. "I've thought of you, look –ribs _and_ studs."

Convinced, Samantha stayed propped up, smiling indulgently when he knelt between her legs again, his hands on her knees; she wanted to see him take her at long last. Watching his face as he entered her slowly and tenderly, she gasped -with pleasure and relief- at the same time he did. Then she lay back down, ecstatic to have him there, within her, once again.

Jack began to move, reacquainting himself with her, wanting to gently coax her into coming. He watched as her hands moved to her breasts and had to shut his eyes, concentrate on the job at hand, not watch her squeeze her own nipples as she lightly moaned and sighed.

A man was only so strong.

God, he could just stay like that forever-

"Jack…" Samantha reached up, wanting to pull Jack down on her, to feel his weight upon her. He complied by bending forward over her, his arms fully extended, hands each side of her on the mattress.

He didn't want to completely lie on top of her –he didn't want to re-visit that crushing last time again. Samantha didn't seem to notice –she was running her hands up and down his arms now, feeling his straining muscles, her hips urging him to thrust harder.

"Ah… ye-es."

She snaked a hand down, so she could rub her clit in time with his movements. This was something else she loved to do. Jack couldn't resist looking down to watch -but he nearly lost it then and there. _Concentrate_! He dropped his head further instead to capture her mouth; her tongue began to mimic what he was doing to her with his cock.

He was moaning into her mouth now, and his shoulders were beginning to feel as tense as his groin was –for entirely different reasons. Samantha's hand was moving more fervently, his body arching up, meeting his lunging hips. Unable to keep the position any longer, he dropped down beside her, rolling Samantha over onto her side, seamlessly hitching her leg over his hip and continued, connected together again. His hand grabbed her ass cheek, kneading it as he plunged into her, while his other arm was wrapped around her, holding her tight. Her mouth panted against his and Jack could still feel her fingers between them, helping herself along.

Samantha could feel the orgasmic flush start and, before her mind totally blanked out in that unique pleasure/pain feeling, concentrated only on the increasing sensation from Jack and her fingertips.

_Oh christ…_

She was actually starting to shudder, feeling the intensity of their combined passions, welcoming the deluge that exploded within her.

_Yes…yes…yes…yesyesyesfuckYESSSSSS_…

He hadn't planned to come –the last part of his self-inflicted expiation- but… sometimes even Jack Malone has to go with the flow.

Xx--

Breathlessly, Jack finally lifted his head from the tangling of their bodies. He was still inside her and had no inclination to change the status quo. He strained to hear the music drifting through. God knows how many songs had played while they'd been in the bedroom.

"What is it?" Samantha asked, reaching a hand up to feel her pleasingly hot cheeks and neck. The glow felt good, and with it was the contented feel of an itch that had finally been thoroughly –and deeply- scratched.

"Sinatra, but which song..." A slow smile formed across his face. There was no trouble recognising that unmistakeable croon. "Ah, nice… the_ Summer Wind_."

"Oh…" she breathed, looking into his beautiful hazel eyes. "Perfect."

"Yes," Jack agreed. "You are."

Xx--

TBC


	15. Getting Along

**A/N:** I wasn't planning on posting this just yet, but it seems about right and something to tide you over for awhile... Thank you as always to Mariel, the bestest beta (and I've been tweaking so any mistakes are mine as usual), to Diane for her constant support and to my new bud Marianne, who has been keeping me amused...

* * *

_Chapter 14_

**Getting Along.**

Xx--

It's something that Samantha had seen a hundred times on TV and at the movies: In the early morning, the hero or heroine rolls over in bed, and flings an arm out, only to find an empty space beside them where their bed partner should be –and this time was no exception for her.

The clock on the side table said 6.37.

She sat up and yawned. Focussing on the slightly open bedroom door, she smiled. Jack had left a white cotton robe hanging there. Not just any robe – hers.

….

"_That top right drawer of the dresser is for you," he said the night before, waving at it with a proprietary air, after returning from the bathroom._

_Samantha turned over in the bed to look. "That's very well organised of you. Shouldn't I have to wait months for the honor?"_

_Jack tsked as he climbed on the bed. "There's a new robe, two new heads for my electric toothbrush in there and also some new towels and a wash cloth in the bathroom –all yours. You can put whatever you want in that drawer."_

"_I have my own towels?" she asked, taken aback by yet more of his forethought._

"_In stunning 'pale desert sun' –well, cream, actually… I had a very busy afternoon preparing for tonight." The power shopping had been between a visit to Frank, a call to his girls and a brief nap._

_She watched as he made himself comfortable beside her, before pointing something out. "I thought you were going to cook for me." She hoped he hadn't heard her stomach growl._

"_Shit!" Post-coital Jack had totally forgotten. He looked down beside the bed. "Are my boxers on your side?"_

_Looking over her edge of the mattress, Samantha found them and picked them up. "That's an interesting pattern."_

"_It's just some design-" he said, making a grab for them._

"_Hang on…" Samantha scrutinised the material closely. "Tiny little white and blue airplanes -that's so cute!"_

"_What…?" Jack took them from her. Squinting at the pattern, he groaned.__"Well, I wasn't exactly awake when I bought them at LaGuardia…" He pulled the boxers on as she watched, a sphinx-like look on her face. "Dinner will be about 20 minutes, you can stay here if you like or you can come and watch. There might be some bubbles still left in the champagne."_

_She thought a moment. "I think… I'd like to wear my robe."_

_Smiling as he rolled off the bed, Jack took it out of the drawer and waited, holding it out for her. Samantha got up and stood nakedly as he dressed her, loosely tying the sash around her waist. "Mmm…" he murmured appreciatively, running his hands over her and the soft, cool material. "Or better yet, we could forget dinner…"_

"_I'm going to need some food sometime," Samantha said reluctantly, sighing as he nuzzled her neck. She'd barely eaten since leaving the office._

_That slowed his attentions. "Come to think of it, me too… and you know what?" he said, turning her around in his arms_

"_What?"_

"_I've got three different types of ice-cream for you for dessert."_

Damn, this man is wonderful_. "Can we eat it in bed?"_

_Jack's mouth fell open in mock –or maybe not- horror. "And get it on my new sheets?"_

….

Lured by the smell of coffee, Samantha donned the robe and went out to find Jack in the kitchen, in semi-readiness for the office wearing his usual black pants and white shirt, pouring out a mug of fresh brew.

"Hey, there you are…" he smiled, reaching out to bring her close to him.

She purloined the mug from him and gratefully took a sip. "Mmm…good morning," she said after his own lingering, coffee-flavored kiss,

"It is now," he said, wrapping his arms around her, his voice soft and a little husky. "I'm very glad you're here."

"I don't think you'd imagine how glad I am, too." She took another sip of coffee, eying him over the edge of the mug. "I was expecting an early wake-up call," she said, knowing Jack –like most men- liked morning sex.

Jack kissed her cheek, deftly avoiding the mug. "As tempting as you are, you were dead asleep and the force of my stare didn't seem to work-"

"Ah, well."

"So I gave up and came out here, did the dishes, got ready -the usual." He'd also taken the James Taylor CD out and had hidden it away in a cupboard –he'd be quite happy if he'd never heard it again, certainly not when he was in bed with Samantha.

"It's still a little early."

"I have to get a report in to Vincent, about the D.C. case and catch up on what I missed."

A penny dropped. "Vincent… you mean Director Baines?"

"My new best friend it seems, and I do have to drop you off at your place before we go to work."

She nodded –she couldn't wear last night's clothes to work, that was for sure. "So… what are we doing tonight?" she asked, purposefully looking at his lips.

The same lips which Jack then ran his tongue over as he thought. "To be honest, I was so focussed on last night –I hadn't really planned ahead."

"Is that right?" Samantha said, putting her mug down so she could put both arms around his waist. "I think more of last night would be quite-" she kissed him, "-acceptable."

"Do I have to go all out and cook again?" he murmured against her mouth.

"Oh, I see, that's how it is -you wooed, you conquered, you came…"

He pulled his face back. "Hey, my cooking skills only go so far; I don't want to use them all up so quickly."

"I'm sure we can manage take-out," she said softly, as his lips met hers again. "I really enjoyed last night,"

"Me too."

Samantha tried to concentrate. "You're a good cook."

A hand had found its way up her back to her hair. "Mm-hm."

"And I liked our shower together," she said, as his other hand found its way inside her robe, fingers stroking her morning skin.

"Oh yes…"

"I never knew ice-cream could be so sticky."

"Incredible."

This was becoming more difficult. "And that massage…just …right."

"It was like the flowers, I felt I owed you a proper one," he said, momentarily distracted as he furled a strand of her blonde hair around his index finger.

"I'm sorry I fell asleep." It had been inevitable; the busy and emotional week had finally taken its toll on her and his hands had been so firm yet gentle…

His mouth found hers once more. "I think I'll live... Besides, we don't have to cram everything into a few hours."

_Like we used to_.

"And we know we'll be seeing each other tonight."

He stilled his wandering hands and mouth as the real world set in; they had to get to work, but he loved the certainty of what she'd just said. "That's the part that'll keep me going throughout the day."

Keeping away from each other at work.

Discretion.

Samantha was beginning to feel that it might be more difficult this time around.

Jack was thinking he could handle it, like he'd managed before.

They'd just have to see.

Xx—

Samantha had barely made it to the empty bullpen when Kitagawa came bounding over, a piece of paper in his hands.

"Look at this!" he said, excitedly waving it under her nose.

"And good morning to you too, what's up?" she asked, leaning against the bullpen table as she glanced in the direction of Jack's office, knowing he was there.

"This is from Kerr Darrow's blog -he's actually written about us!"

Samantha groaned. "There's going to be a trial; that wasn't very clever of him."

"No, no, it's okay. He just generally thanks the law enforcement officers for helping him out of a 'sticky situation' and looking after him. He really appreciates what we did." Kitagawa pointed to himself and Samantha. "That's us! This is so cool!"

Samantha couldn't help grinning at his enthusiasm and sheer perkiness, while noting Danny sauntering in. "That's very nice of him."

"My first real case too! I'm going to tell my dad –he'll be so impressed!"

"That's a lot of excitement before the school bell –you must be a rookie," Danny said, holding out his hand, looking at the name badge as he introduced himself. "Jackson Kitagawa… have I seen you around?

"He's with Andrew," Samantha cut in, thinking Kitagawa should add it to his badge so everyone would know.

"Call me Jack."

"Hey, nice try -but I don't think so," Danny threw as he went to his desk.

Kitagawa looked disconsolately at Samantha. "I might as well give up on that, eh?"

She found herself nodding and resisted the urge to pat him on the head. "Looks like that's the way it's going to be."

"It's okay, it makes me sound older. And don't worry, I haven't forgotten I owe you some filing," and he flashed her a smile before going back to his desk.

"Gee whiz Nancy Drew, you better watch out –I bet James the NYPD detective could flatten him when you've finished babysitting," Danny remarked, taking his jacket off.

"Flatten who?" Jack asked, trying to be offhand at the James remark as he came into the bullpen. He'd looked up when Samantha had passed his office, but had resolutely stayed at his desk.

"Jackson, Andrew's newbie," she said neutrally.

"Oh, right," he said, admiring for a nanosecond Samantha's lipstick color before cutting his reverie short. "Danny, you're with me, I've done most of a report for Baines and I'd like your input."

"Sure thing –now?" asked Danny.

"In about ten minutes." Jack looked back to Samantha. "As for the new recruit, I've read his report and he did a good job, thanks to you."

"It wasn't all my own work," Samantha said, wondering how fast she could take his tie off when they were at home later. "You could go over and tell him yourself," she pointed out, while going over to her own desk -as a distraction.

"Good idea," said Jack, nodding as he set off.

"He might burst like a piñata from all the excitement, so go easy on him McGarrett," Danny called out before Jack was out of earshot.

Samantha looked over at him. "What's that about?"

Danny looked at her, his dark eyes hooded. "It's a D.C. thing," he said, mysteriously.

Xx—

Jack sat down on the bench, unwrapped his sub as he looked over at the small, pretty flower arrangement he'd made in the vase in front the headstone. He had been meaning to keep his earlier promise to his daughters but they'd asked again yesterday when they'd all spoken together, so he thought he should do it sooner rather than later. He'd even taken a picture with his work cell phone –if the girls wanted to see what he'd put there, and also to prove the point if Joyce needed evidence. The old flowers were at his feet, ready to go in the trash later with his sub wrapper.

Not the most fun way to spend his lunch time, but it got him out of the office, as much as he wanted to be in Samantha's proximity. Having Danny with him throughout the morning had helped out immeasurably.

His attention wandered around the cemetery as he ate, his eyes alighting on other headstones, flowering shrubs, trees and the very few other people by graves in the afternoon sun. Not too far off there was a small funeral in progress and he watched it for a while to pass the time.

Eventually, Jack's gaze returned to Maria's grave and he wondered if his timing wasn't just a little off, considering what had finally, wonderfully happened between Samantha and himself.

_I suppose no time is a good time._

Finishing his lunch, he brushed the crumbs off his hands, picked up the dead flowers and went back to stand by the grave, looking down at it.

Well, he wasn't going to start talking to it; that wasn't quite his thing. There wasn't any point.

But some facts couldn't be ignored.

He had been meant to marry Maria.

They had been meant to have their children.

They just hadn't been meant to last.

A truce was the best that Jack could come up with in his mind. He thought back to his conversation with Mashburn. Barry had made things sound almost simple, but that hadn't been the case. The grieving widower role was not something Jack had wanted or been willing to play and Barry's solution to let it out and be more up front wasn't quite the best way for Jack.

At least now he acknowledged it.

_It's going to be a long time before I can get over what you did to me, wrong as I'd been._

_And that's just the way it's going to have to be, Maria._

He was with Sam now.

Xx--

Samantha stood back and checked herself out in the mirror. The sales assistant smiled. "That's a better fit, you need support as well as style in a bra, so many women forget that."

"I like it. I saw you had it in another color –sort of peach?"

"Certainly. Would you like to look at the two types of matching panties now? I can get those too."

"Thank you," Samantha said, as the sales assistant shut the changing room door behind her. Hearing her cell blip, Samantha got it out of her bag and smiled as she read Jack's message:

_Missing you. Can you talk?_

She dialled him. "Where are you?"

He glanced out at the cemetery lawn as he wound the car window down. "Parked under some trees. What are you doing?"

"Well, since you let us go home early, I thought I'd do some shopping."

"Sounds good -what for?"

"Lingerie, bras, panties, that sort of thing," she said lightly.

There was a pause and she could picture his expression. "Can I be of any help? You know, like work out your cup size, make sure it fits okay…"

"No, I'm fine."

"I could just watch. Hold things for you."

"Nice try."

"Well, don't go too crazy."

"Why not?"

"No point in spending all that money as it's only going to get ripped off the minute I get to see it."

"It'll be worth it just for that, then. You can find out later tonight."

After she'd hung up, Jack stared out the window again, wishing he'd splashed out on cells that took photos. _Damn_…

Opting to stay in the office, he'd let the rest of the team go after they'd finished their reports; now he wished he'd given himself the time off too; he'd earned it.

It was going to be a long Monday afternoon.

But, better yet, a longer night.

Xx—

Tuesday afternoon.

Jack sat in his office, knowing Samantha was at her desk, yards away. He wanted to make some excuse to go and see her.

Maybe he could ask if any of them had leads on anything.

Perhaps he could call her in to go over a report.

This was ridiculous, but being with her after-hours meant that he couldn't see much of her during the day.

It had been like this years ago.

And they'd gotten sloppy, careless, and the OPR had found out.

No, he'd have to stay at his desk.

After all, he only had to remember the large amount of time they'd been spending together –and a lot of that in bed- to know it was all worthwhile.

He would sit and only go out when needed.

Jack glanced wistfully in the direction of the bullpen one more time, then pulled some old files towards him that were needing attention, and began to read.

Xx--

Tuesday had not ended well.

Jack lay on his stomach, hunched over a pillow, while Samantha rubbed his back.

He let out a long sigh. "That feels…"

"Better?"

"I'm not entirely sure."

"The bruise is huge." It went right across his back, halfway down.

"That little asshole. If you're going to go all Bruce Lee, you might as well do it properly. He wasn't even a Jackie Chan –more like Charlie Chan."

"And that's saying something." Samantha honestly didn't know enough to compare –kung fu movies weren't her thing. She continued gently stoking his back and moved the ice-pack around. "It could have been worse." He'd been given a check over for broken ribs by the paramedics and, having found nothing to concern them, they'd given him some Advil. He'd been offered Vicodin, but turned them down –much to Martin's silent, frustrated dismay.

Jack said nothing. Being felled by a kid from behind was one thing; being knocked down because he was distracted over Samantha's safety while they were on the job was another. He hadn't heard the teenager creeping up behind him, because he'd been looking out for Samantha, further ahead with Vivian.

"I swear, I don't know what the criminals would do if they didn't have empty warehouses and factories to use," he said, half-heartedly to fill the silence in his bedroom. They'd gone there on a new tip-off from an older unsolved case, but had walked in to a drug manufacturing operation.

Samantha frowned; he'd been in a peculiar mood since they'd left the warehouse. She moved the ice pack again. "Jack… what's up?"

He didn't speak for a few moments. "Nothing, just wounded pride." It was a semi-truth.

She lay down beside him. "Look at me."

He turned his head to look at her, but said nothing.

"Talk to me."

She was the one person who knew exactly what the job was about. "Nothing to say." He wasn't going to bring it up. He'd just have to make sure not to slip up again.

She was still staring at him unabashedly.

Knowing he had to give her something, he changed tact. "Why me, Sam?" He'd wondered that some time back, it seemed a good time to ask.

Her eyes narrowed a fraction. "That's funny, I thought we'd missed this stage out long ago."

"What stage?"

"The pushing away stage. Where you say that you're no good for me, you're my boss, you're too old, that you have children –that stage. Everyone goes through it sometime early on –it's like some strange test."

"I see what you mean…" He made the pillow a little more comfortable. "But I'm not trying to push you away, far from it, so… why me?"

"And all I'm saying is –why not you?" If he was obfuscating, so she could play that too. She took the ice-pack off him and dropped it on the floor. "I could quite easily ask the same question –why me?" she asked, scrunching up a pillow to rest on.

Jack snorted. "That's easy –you're clever, beautiful, talented, smart, sexy, perceptive, instinctive, great at your job and you care about what you do and the people you help."

Samantha could only stare.

_Jesus, he just rolled that out __without even thinking_.

She didn't know what to say. She suddenly wished she'd initially given him a list like that -instead of just throwing it back at him.

Samantha sat up. "I'll just go and get a refill."

"Okay," Jack murmured, watching her pick up the ice-pack and leave.

He could tell that she knew he was hiding something; he just didn't want to bring up the fact that it was now more difficult working with her than he'd thought it would be. He'd made a stupid mistake –one he was sure he would never had made in the past. Perhaps it was a reflection of the seriousness of their new relationship.

Thinking that he was just going to have to get tough on himself, he moved a little, wincing as he buried his face in his pillow.

_And i__t's only been two days at work…_

Xx--

Samantha slowly walked to the darkened kitchen and blindly pulled out more ice from the freezer, emptying and refilling the ice-pack. Then she sat at the kitchen table, in a stunned way.

His reticence about the warehouse incident was not on her mind. Whatever it was didn't matter now.

She was actually surprised at her continued amazement in him, and in their relationship.

_I really__, really love him._

Returned quietly to the bedroom a few minutes later, Samantha stood in the doorway. Jack hadn't moved and by the looks of him, had finally relaxed enough to sleep. She put the ice-pack on the floor and then turned the light off. Carefully climbing into bed, she snuggled up beside him, letting his rhythmic breathing lull her to a happy, deep sleep.

Xx—

"Are you okay, Jack?" Vivian asked, watching as he carefully sat down with the team at the bullpen table, the next morning.

Jack nodded as he downed a couple of Advil with his coffee. "Looks worse than it is, believe me… Okay, so much for that tip-off, what new leads do we have?"

Martin put down his coffee. "Well, after your… after you…"

Jack waved his hand. "Just say it."

"After your accident, Danny and I came back and had another look at what we have –and again, nothing. Joyelle McCaffrey is still nowhere closer to being found than she was a year ago."

"Have the techs look back into the phone call again –I know there wasn't much to go on but it's a strange coincidence to find a drug op while looking for a missing person. I'd like to know if it was a coincidence –or not."

Martin looked at Danny, who shook his head: "We think not; they're still questioning the guys from the warehouse."

Jack nodded. "I'll look in on them later downstairs; see what they've dug up."

"So…" ventured Samantha, stirring sugar into her coffee for a taste change.

Jack pushed a piece of paper towards the middle of the table. "All is not lost. We all have our firearm proficiency tests to plan for."

A groan went around the table. Firing guns was one thing, doing it while someone graded you was another.

Leaning over to grab a sachet of sugar from Samantha, Danny smiled. "Well, it could be worse; it could be our annual physicals."

"Be careful what you wish for… Anything else?" asked Jack, looking around the table.

"Well, I did see one thing…" said Vivian. "Our old friend Barry Mashburn is coming up for parole the day after tomorrow."

Everyone –except Jack –looked at Samantha. She put down her coffee. "Interesting," was all she could come up with.

"Are you going?" Martin asked her.

"Well, I… don't know." She felt much the same about it when she'd been standing across from the Table of Contents –at least Jack had been holding her hand then; right now he'd put on his glasses and was studying a sheet of paper in front of him –it was looking like sheer avoidance to her.

Vivian looked at Jack. "What do you think?"

Jack looked up, like he hadn't been listening. "About…?"

"If Samantha should go to Mashburn's parole hearing."

His eyes flicked over to Samantha. "That's entirely up to her."

"And what about you?"

He focussed on the paper again. "I don't need to go."

"You don't think you should?" Vivian persisted.

"I don't need to."

"I'm sorry, Jack -I find that a little strange, you said that you understood what he was going through and you put a good word in for him at his trial -why not help him out now?"

"I am supporting him as a matter of fact."

"You'll have to be more specific," remarked Vivian, intrigued by his diffidence.

Jack turned in his chair to face her. "I went and saw him the other week and I've already drafted a letter to the parole board supporting him. Samantha can go and champion him or not, it's entirely up to her." He stood up and took off his glasses. "I'll have some timetable paperwork for your proficiency tests to fill out in ten minutes." Then he left.

Danny, Martin and Vivian couldn't help themselves –they all watched Jack leave, then all looked at Samantha, who was staring at Jack's retreating back.

_What the hell…?_

Then they watched as Samantha excused herself, got up and marched towards Jack's office.

Martin also stood up. "I think I'm going to go to the techs, see what they can come up with."

"I think we all should go," Danny pitched in.

"Yes, I think the techs guys need our expertise," said Vivian.

Martin nodded in agreement. "I'm sure they'll glad of all our help."

Some explosions were better off not being seen or heard.

Xx—

Jack was almost going to start a blast off countdown as he shut his door. He decided not to sit behind his desk so he leaned against it and waited -for only a few seconds as it turned out.

Samantha came in and shut the door and walked over to the far side of Jack's office.

"So, how is Barry, by the way?" she began neutrally, deciding not to let him wait, while she looked at some of the pictures on his wall.

Jack watched her carefully. "He's quite good, asked how you were."

"That was nice of him. When did you see him?"

"The Sunday before last."

She picked up one of Jack's awards, turning it over in her hands. "Why –aside from the obvious?"

"I just wanted to catch up."

She put the award down and looked over at him. "I wouldn't exactly call him your drinking buddy … You didn't mention it when we went to the movies. It would have been a good opportunity."

"I thought it could wait…" He fanned out his hands. "I'm sorry, honey-"

"No, now is not the time for that."

"The line's a bit blurry these days."

"It's getting that way."

He walked to the large table, across from her, as she faced him with folded arms. "I needed to talk to someone-"

She cut him off. "Jack, you know you can always talk-"

He continued. "I needed to talk to someone about Maria."

Samantha looked back at the wall. "Oh."

"And when I got the email about him I just thought it might… I don't know, help me out."

"And did it?"

"In a way, yes."

She looked back to him. "That was on Sunday, I saw you with your father on Monday and you phoned me on Tuesday morning… Did Barry have anything to do with that?"

Jack shrugged. "Maybe. But honestly Sam, I knew I wanted to be with you. However since Maria died, thinking you were still with Martin and then that cop, and our… fights…" he said, his voice quiet.

"I wish you had told me earlier, that's all."

"I should have, I just thought it could wait. You're not angry?"

Samantha shook her head. "No, just a little disappointed."

"I thought you'd come in and rip my head off."

"That's what the others will think," she said, inclining her head towards the bullpen. "Look, I know we're beyond that but I'm also thinking I'll just have to deal with you later." There was the merest hint of a smile on her lips. "It might be good –for us- to be at odds in front of the team for a while."

Wanting nothing more than to go around the table and touch her, comfort her, Jack knew he had to stay where he was. He nodded and took a step backwards, shoving his hands in his pockets as he briefly examined his feet. "There are two other things." She waited, wondering, as he looked back up. "I visited Maria's grave on Monday during lunch, as I'd promised the girls. I'd just been when we talked on the phone." She wasn't really giving him any reaction so he went on. "And that kid got the drop kick on me yesterday because my attention was on what you were doing, not what _I _should have been doing…" He watched her, waiting for it all to sink in and lowered his voice. "I'll get to the point -I'm beginning to wonder if we should really be working together."

Samantha actually found herself a little upset at the suggestion. "We've survived before."

"I know that, it's just all so different this time -it's only been a couple days and I'm finding I can't concentrate. It's not good for me, the team or the job."

Finding she was more hurt by this than the Mashburn thing, she reluctantly nodded. "I think… I think we should continue this one at home."

"I think so too…" They held each other's eyes for a few more moments. "I'll consider myself told off, though."

She watched him go behind his desk. "And I'm off to write a letter for Barry."

"He'll appreciate that," Jack said sitting down, feeling a little blue. "Okay?"

_Not really_. "Okay."

After she'd left, it was a few minutes before Jack realised what Samantha had said.

_At home_.

That, at least, made him feel better.

TBC

Xx—


	16. Just Like Everyone Else

**A/N:** First of all, thanks to the newer readers who have been recently discovering my stories and sending me reviews, I do appreciate the feedback and it's nice to have you on board... Thanks to Diane and Marianne for being good little naggers -someone has to do it and I need the pushing!... As always, big thanks to Mariel, who can see the mistakes that I just can't see due to over-reading and over-writing -where would I be without her?

**Disclaimer**: Thought I should mention it again. These characters are CBS owned, and I like to play with them.

I don't feel this is a very long chapter at all, and it's not the last, not by a long shot.

* * *

_Chapter 15_

_Just LikeEveryone Else_

Xx—

Jack stood by the window, looking into the interview room. He had been watching the questioning of one of the drug op suspects for about five minutes now. His mind had begun to drift, and he wondered what Samantha was doing right at that moment upstairs –probably her letter about Mashburn. Special Agent Campbell came out of the room and stood beside Jack, popping a piece of gum in his mouth as he did so. Jack brought his thoughts back to the here and now.

Campbell tiredly rubbed his hands across his gaunt cheeks. "Nothing for you. I think your guys were at the right place for us -extremely wrong time for them. But why use Joyelle McCaffrey's disappearance as a lure to set them up?" he asked thoughtfully.

Jack shrugged. "Maybe they'd heard about it, remembered it when it was on the news –whatever the reasons, it worked in the informants' favor and I'm sure the bosses of these kids aren't going to be too pleased. I'll pass on talking to them. You covered it all. "

"Well, I'm sorry it didn't help you –or her family- but we did good getting these guys off the street. They're busy ratting out everyone they can think of –damn amateurs…" Campbell shook his head in disbelief.

"Ah, where would we be without the young idiots in the gangs?" Jack asked.

"They're definitely going to have a short shelf life back on the streets or in prison."

"Shame," said Jack, with the look of one seasoned agent to another that suggested anything but. "Still on the nicotine gum?" he observed.

Campbell nodded. "I think I'm addicted to _it_ now –honestly, smoking was more fun. I'm wishing I was more of a drinker to make up the difference… My Mrs. wants me to be hypnotised. What do you think?" he asked, turning away from the one-way glass.

Jack shrugged again, following suit. "I've heard good things, but I've also heard that it doesn't always work for too long."

"God, anything's got to be better than this crap I'm chewing."

"Then there's nothing to lose, is there?"

Campbell rolled his eyes. "Gee Jack, for a new kid on the block you sound so wise, so clever…" he said good-naturedly.

Jack raised an eyebrow. "And how are things in Mayberry?"

"About as good as your rocking chair back at Petticoat Junction" Campbell bounced back.

"I thought I was too young for that, and shouldn't you have retired by now?"

Campbell's grin increased. "Hey, if you want to take it outside, Malone-"

"Oh yeah?"

"You talkin' to me?" Campbell said, De Niro-like.

Jack could only shake his head. "Jesus Ed, that was your worst impression yet -really."

Campbell waved his hand, dismissing Jack. "Yeah, yeah, yours is worse."

Then Jack's phone rang and grinning, he excused himself to answer it.

Xx—

His good mood continuing, he peered around Dr. Harris' door and waved his phone at her. "Lisa –was that actually a summons?"

She looked over at him from behind her desk, holding up a piece of paper. "Did you read this? It was buried in the morning's email."

Jack stepped into her office, his mood taking somewhat of a dip. "I sort of leave reading those Bureau ones until I have a decent mug of coffee and nothing better to do."

"I'll be blunt –what the hell are Anne and Max Cassidy up to?"

Mood utterly gone, Jack decided to sit down in case Lisa was going to launch into a rant. "I have no idea what you're talking about," he said, wholly innocent -and curious.

She looked at him wryly. "They were due to see me together yesterday morning. They never turned up, I couldn't get hold of them, their supervisors went all tight-lipped and now I read that they are-" she glanced at the piece of paper, "'taking an indefinite leave of absence'. What's going on?"

Jack could only shake his head, feeling strangely pleased. "Like I said… But I did speak to Anne last week and recommended that they both come and see you." Lisa was giving him a hard stare. "Seriously. If they've gone away to work things out together, then good for them."

The stare softened slightly. "Okay, you know them better than me."

"Maybe they're working through their rough patch themselves."

_And thankfully without my help. _

Frowning, Lisa put the paper down. "The last time Max went missing it wasn't -"

"They would have to have told their supervisors where they were going," he asserted with a definite glare.

_I'm sure as hell not going after them_.

"I suppose the break will do them some good," she said, leaning back in her chair. "So, how are you these days?"

"Fine, thank you." She appeared to require more. "The girls are on holiday with Maria's parents."

"You've got a lot of free time, then?"

"I'm keeping busy, there's always something to do." He stood to leave. "So, if there's nothing else…"

She was looking at him thoughtfully. "I was wondering -are you seeing anyone?"

Jack was trapped, surprised by her question.

To say no would be a lie, but it wouldn't kill him; to say yes would invite further questions that he wasn't willing to answer.

_Surely she couldn't know…_

"Ah… I'm kind of seeing someone –just started," was the best he could come up with, wondering why on earth she was asking.

"That's nice," Lisa said, smiling faintly. "I wish you all the best."

"Thanks," Jack replied, then –relieved- he exited.

She watched him through the glass as he strode away.

Then, scrunching up the sheet of paper with the Cassidy notice, she threw it in her waste paper basket -a tad forcefully.

Not for the first time, Dr. Lisa Harris wished that she hadn't merely given Jack a bottle of water when he'd asked her out for a drink.

It just hadn't been the right time all those years ago.

And now didn't seem to be the right time, either.

Xx—

Jack stood by Samantha's kitchen table, rather peeved, while she fussed about.

"I thought you wanted to talk about this at home," he said, finally taking off his jacket and hanging it on the back of a chair.

She was crouching in front of the fridge, peering into it, wondering how she could fix them a meal with an inadequate amount of ingredients. "I did, but when I got here I changed my mind and, -by the way- this _is _technically home."

He tapped his fingers on the table. "I've been sitting in the car for ten minutes in the street waiting for you."

"Then you should have phoned me earlier to ask what we were doing," she said in a nonplussed way. It was looking like it would have to be the old pasta stand-by. She hoped she had some bottled sauce somewhere as there didn't seem enough to start from scratch.

"And then it took me ages to find a park…" Jack went on.

"Wine okay?" Samantha asked, frowning at an old half empty bottle while she ignored him.

Sensing he should just give up, Jack pulled off his already loosened tie. "I'm in the mood for a beer… and I take it I'm staying the night?"

She put the wine back, grabbed a lonely bottle of beer from the depths and stood up. "I damn well hope so."

"Well, it does mean I'll have to get up extra early to get back home and change-"

She gave him a warning look while handing him the beer.

"Okay, I get the point," he recovered, chastened.

"Glad to hear it. So, are you over your 'aversion' to my apartment?"

Looking around, Jack thought about it for a moment. "Well, later when we get to bed, I'll see…"

"Hmmm… How about if I'm on top most of the time -would it help get rid of that old memory?" she asked, with the most angelic look on her face.

"It would certainly help if you were on top all of the time," remarked Jack, instantly forgiving her as a sudden zing went through him from top to toe in anticipation

The mere thought of being in bed with her was something he wasn't tired of as yet.

He doubted he ever would.

She appeared to ponder what he said as she went to her small freezer. "Maybe most of the time, but only if you're good, plus it'll help your back…"

Liking the idea, he twisted off the bottle cap and sat himself down at the kitchen table. Samantha followed suit after grabbing a carton of ice-cream and was looking forward to digging into the remains –to each, their own.

Jack raised an eyebrow. "Didn't you have enough of that the other night?"

"I'd almost forgotten I had some Triple Chocolate Ecstasy left. I'm putting it out of its misery."

Jack shook his head, a smile on his face. "Women and chocolate –it's a seriously complicated relationship."

"Men just don't get it. Throw ice cream in there and it gets seriously scary," and she proved her point by eating a large spoonful.

He watched her and took a swig of beer before speaking. "While I was waiting in the car… I thought you might want to stay here all night –on your own."

Finding an unexpected, buried chunk of chocolate, Samantha shook her head "I never even thought that. Did you think I was going to sulk or something?"

Jack sighed. "Honestly, yes… probably… I don't know."

"But you know we can talk about things openly… Yes, I wish you'd have said something about meeting Barry. Yes, I wish you'd mentioned something about going to Maria's grave –but I'm not suddenly going to go home in a huff –not after all this time," she finished off by eating the chunk.

She knew, deep down, how hypocritical she was really being –but some secrets had to stay buried, literally, and a long way away.

Only aware of his own concealed secrets, Jack stared at his beer. "Speaking of which, I had an interesting meeting with Lisa Harris today."

"Mmm?" Samantha was instantly alert; she was never sure if Lisa Harris was a rival or not –after all, Jack was an attractive man…

"She was asking about the Cassidys –seems they've gone."

"Gone?"

"Well, not really. They've gone on indefinite leave somewhere. It was in the Bureau's news."

"I read those-"

"Last of all- yes, me too."

"So, is their absence going to be a problem?" Samantha was having trouble trying to hide her glee at the news, unsure what Jack was thinking about his friends.

"Only for their own departments. Actually, I think it's good news –for all concerned. Let's just say I'm not going to miss her surprise visits."

"Good."

"Very good, but Sam…" he leaned forward in his chair, "look, the work thing is going to be a challenge."

"Maybe after a couple of weeks or months, but honestly, it's only been a few days."

He realised he was being a bit dramatic about it. "It's different now… I can't ask you to transfer and I'm not planning on going through all that again like I did with Chicago…"

"And I'm not planning on transferring either. So you're just going to have to toughen up… Really, am I that much of a distraction? It's extremely flattering, but come _on_," she said, trying to lighten the mood.

"Maybe if I was a stronger man, able to resist you more…" he said, attempting to keep a straight face.

By the wry look now on her face, he certainly wasn't fooling her. "As much as I love the sweet talk, Jack…"

"Okay, okay," he relented.

"You've done it before, you can do it again."

He took a sip of beer, watching as Samantha ate another spoonful of ice-cream. "Want some?" he asked, holding up the bottle and deciding to change subjects.

She wrinkled her nose. "Not with this, maybe later."

"Well, it could be a taste sensation," he said, pushing himself back from the table, shifting position in the chair to help his bruised back and stretched out his legs, crossing them at the ankles. "It's been a long day," he said with a sigh, finally feeling truly relaxed.

Putting the carton down, Samantha got up from her chair and went to him. "It sure has…and if I recall -I seem to remember that I said I'd deal with you," she said, bending over him, one hand on the back of the chair, the other starting to unbutton his shirt. "You're not too tired, are you?"

Jack raised his eyebrows, all wide-eyed virtuousness, and took a swig from his beer -a slight smile on his lips as he did so, giving him away.

"I have a confession to make…" Samantha said in a low, husky voice.

"I'm listening."

"It's my boss, he's seriously hot… I can't stop thinking about him-"

"Really…" he said, drawing the syllables out.

"He'll be talking to me and all I'm thinking of is how I want to take him home," she had finished the buttons, "rip his clothes off and throw him on the bed… or the sofa, or the floor…"

Jack nodded, a feigned look of concern on his face as her hand dipped inside his shirt. "Yes, that is a problem. I have the same sort of thing with one of my team."

"That sounds terrible…" Samantha said, her fingernail teasing one of his nipples into hardness.

Jack swallowed, trying to keep his train of thought. "It is, especially when she's talking about something, like a report. All I want to do is just grab her, shove her onto my desk and push her skirt up-"

"And what if I'm –she's- wearing pants?"

"Then I'd just unzip them and pull them down-"

"Would the blinds in your office be up?" she asked, squeezing his nipple for emphasis.

"Depends if she wants an audience or not…"

"And that would depend on who's watching…"

She leaned down to kiss him, an ice-cream taste of things to come. Lingering before pulling away, she then hauled him to his feet. "Come on, I can't wait," she said. "We can eat later –as usual."

Putting the almost empty bottle on the table, Jack smiled. "My favorite way to end the day -I thought you'd never ask."

He loved the sexual freedom he was experiencing. It had been years and the last time he'd truly had it was before -and in the early days- of his marriage.

Samantha could be leading him to the gates of hell, and he wouldn't really care, as long as it was with her.

She led him across the living room and paused, apparently thinking, at the bedroom door.

Jack gave her an enquiring look.

She pointed to the bed. "Ye-es… You -on there… no clothes… and on your back, Jack."

Xx—

11.48pm

"Hey."

She prodded him.

"Jack, are you awake?"

"Mmph."

"I want to go out."

"Mmph?" He rolled over to face her, now that she had his groggy attention. "What –now?"

Samantha shook her head. "No, but I want us to go out –together."

He rubbed his eyes, confused why she would re-visit this -at this time. "But if we're seen…"

"When you said we'd become shut-ins –I didn't think you meant it literally."

"You've changed your tune. You were the one that pointed out we were nearly seen at the movies..."

"Yes, I've changed my mind. I need to see daylight –or even nightlight. I want to go out. With you," she emphasized.

"We get to go out during a case together," Jack reasoned, albeit it in a hollow way.

"That's work and you know it's not the same. You said to screw the OPR. What are the chances in a city of 8 million, anyway?"

Knowing there was _always_ somebody, Jack could still see her point. He also wanted to go out with her and be like a normal couple. "I just don't want to be caught out –again, that's all."

"Seriously, would it be the end of the world?"

"Our jobs maybe…"

"We can always make an excuse," she badgered.

"I know, I know… I'd like that too." He rolled onto his back and held his arm up, inviting a snuggle.

"Really?" she asked, as he cuddled her.

"Look, before the girls come back, I'll take you out for dinner, somewhere nice. Will that do?" he asked, acquiescing –of course.

"For now," she hinted, softly.

Xx—

Surprising things can happen when you least suspect it.

Samantha was settling down to a mid-morning coffee when a couple of sheets of paper were shoved under her nose. She looked up sharply to find Martin standing beside her.

"What's this?" she asked, unable to keep suspicion out of her voice.

But Martin was in a good place and buzzing nicely. "Have you and James made any plans for this weekend?" he asked, smiling genially.

It was Thursday and she knew that she and Jack hadn't planned anything as far as she knew. Sex, and more sex, at either of their apartments would be a certainty, she knew that much. It was an excellent way to spend the weekend if you weren't going to go out anywhere, like they had any choice. She was looking forward to their dinner out –whenever that could be arranged. "Nothing really -I'm on call this weekend anyway. Why do you ask?"

_As if it's any of your damn business, Martin Fitzgerald._

Martin's expression hadn't changed, but it was now tempered with a touch of smugness. "I know it's short notice but make sure you're both free, because those are directions to the place in the East Hamptons my parents have been staying in."

Sam blinked. _Christ,_ _Jack would have a_ _heart attack_…

"Um, honestly Martin, that sounds a bit crowded. I can't really see us staying there with them-"

Martin held up a protesting hand. "No, of course not! The best part is that they're coming back for a few days –some charity thing Mom's got roped into helping organise and Dad's got some drinking buddies to catch up with. They're away from Friday morning until Tuesday night."

_How strangely considerate of them. _"So, there's no chance of them dropping by looking for you… or me?"

"No, that only happens on bad TV shows, and no, I wasn't planning on dropping in on you either. Mom had offered it to me the other day and I'm not keen on going by myself, so I thought you might like to go with James. She's okay with it –Dad needn't know."

"Oh, wow, that's really nice of you," said Samantha, feeling wretched, but warming to the plan.

Martin laughed gently. "It has been known to happen. Consider it a small gift, a peace offering. All you have to do is supply sheets, towels and food. I can cover any calls for you."

She narrowed her eyes a fraction. "No catch?"

"Absolutely none. I'll be getting the keys and alarm codes on Friday afternoon and you two can get there when you can."

Samantha was desperate to tell Jack. "I'll get hold of him and see what we can do."

"I hope you can. You guys deserve a decent break together."

Samantha couldn't help but smile.

_You have no idea._

Xx—

It was at least twenty minutes of reflection and frustration before she could contrive to see Jack in his office and explain what Martin had proposed.

"But we couldn't possibly go," she said, waving an empty file folder, which had been her excuse to see him. "It would be wrong."

He nodded, his glasses making him look stern. "It certainly wouldn't be right…"

"It would be bad of us."

"Very."

They stared at each other.

Xx--

Jack put down the suitcases inside the doorway. "Jesus Christ, Victor's been staying _here_?"

Samantha was putting the bags of foods on the kitchen bench. "I think it's a friend of a friend of a friend's. This is the rented Tuscany substitute, remember?"

Jack was trying to find the appropriate words to describe the big space. "It's all a bit post-modern minimalist industrial retro-60's chic for me. I wouldn't think it was the Fitzgeralds' type of thing at all," he said, looking around before closing the front door.

Sam was already opening the large glass doors leading outside to the deck. "I think Martin said they were already thinking about the Catskills next year… Hey, check out this view!"

He followed and found her leaning against the railing.

"At least the view makes up for the scary house," Jack remarked, standing behind her and folding his arms around her. A cool sea breeze was blowing against them, flicking Samantha's hair about.

She nodded. "I think a walk on the beach this evening would be nice and Montauk tomorrow for the shops."

"Sounds nice. Whatever you want, you know that."

"How about public displays of affection?"

"Definitely –I'm not afraid."

Jack found himself unwound and well on the way to an advanced state of repose –despite their sneakiness in contriving to get away, but it had all run surprisingly smoothly. He had physically felt the tension rolling off him during the drive there with Samantha, despite her choice in music. It seemed James Taylor just wasn't going to go away and he found he hadn't even minded that.

Manhattan seemed a million miles away.

Samantha was thinking, already planning ahead. "We can have something to eat out here first."

"Hmmm… or we can have something to eat, and then it's you and me on the rug in front of that large fireplace."

"I thought it was whatever I wanted?"

"I changed my mind."

They looked at the ocean, the dunes in front of the house and the beach. Evening strollers were enjoying the fine fading light and joggers were about. It was all very restful.

"You know, I think I might even go for a run in the morning –you want to join me?" Samantha ventured –it was worth a try.

Jack squeezed her tightly. "I really don't think so, but I'll get up later and find you some shells. I hear women are a sucker for that."

"My hero," she said with a laugh.

"I try. Hey…" he said quietly in her ear.

"Hmmm?" Samantha was watching anelderly couple walking their dog.

"You're right; it's nice to be together."

"In the real world."

"And I have to agree that this is just what we needed."

"Oh god, yes."

"I may have to be nicer to Martin because of it."

"Don't get too carried away –he'd begin to wonder why."

Looking around, he came to a decision. "And there's something else."

"Hmmm?" The old couple were throwing a stick into the water, laughing as their dog ran into the surf to retrieve it.

"I love you," he whispered.

This was finally the right time and place.

Samantha could feel her heart brimming over with emotion. "I love you too. You've always known that."

She thought he might turn her around and kiss her, but he kept holding her tight against him, his lips pressed against her hair, as if he'd never let her go.

And Jack knew he never would.

Xx—

To be continued


	17. Togetherness

**A/N**: I wasn't planning on posting this as it is -it was going to be a _very_ long chapter but I thought I should get something out. As some of you know I had a bad bout of plagiarism happen to me and was surprised I even rallied around to deliver this. Not nice to happen to any writer -fanfic or otherwise. Thanks as always to Mariel for her excellent beta work, Diane for the coaxing and Marianne for fun -even if she keeps disappearing on us.

**Disclaimer**: Love WAT, just don't own it. Damn.

* * *

Chapter 16

_Togetherness_

Xx--

Sunday morning, and the beach was quiet

Sunday morning, and the beach was quiet. Jack was toeing a stone in the damp sand, half-hidden due to the ebbing tide. Samantha may have missed out on her run early yesterday, but she'd sure been serious about it this morning.

He'd kicked off the sheet and stretched out languorously, arching his back like a contented cat, hoping to persuade her into staying in bed with him by showing her what she'd be missing. She'd stood there for a moment, her eyes roaming over him, definite signs of appreciation in what she saw.

Then she'd responded by flicking the sheet back over him. "You'll keep," she'd said, amused at the disappointed look on his face. Then, after changing into some jogging gear, she'd gone, shaking her head with a smile on her face that clearly said: _Men_...

_Well, I tried_, he'd thought, rolling over onto his side to gaze at the view out the window.

After a while, he'd become restless and bored in the big, lonely bed; hanging around the beach seemed a better prospect. Wondering if she were making a point about how fit she was and he admittedly wasn't, he'd decided that when he got back to work he'd find out when the next physicals were –cheating to find out if necessary, as perhaps some preparation wouldn't be a bad idea.

Turning the stone over with the side of his foot, he found he was frustrated for Samantha to hurry back.

Searching for any small sign of her, Jack squinted up and down the beach once more. Still having no luck, he picked up the stone and ambled back to the house, stopping briefly to grab a small shell that caught his eye. Then, sitting on the stairs of the deck, he scuffed the dried sand off his feet before going in to make a satisfying pot of coffee.

Xx--

Samantha had to pull her hair back yet again while she ran; the hair tie just wasn't doing its job. She'd run further down the beach than she'd thought and was regretting it; running on the firm sand was novel yet more tiring than she'd thought. Hoping that Jack hadn't gone to sleep waiting for her, she redoubled her efforts to get back. She hadn't planned to jog as far as she had; it must have been the lure of the wide open space and bracing air. It certainly had been having a soothing effect on Jack while they'd been there –she'd never seen him smiling so much and it made her feel good. She wasn't regretting missing out on her run yesterday morning either; they'd slept in late and had laid there, interlaced fingers and legs, taking pleasure in their closeness, small talk and the distant sound of breaking waves.

She couldn't have asked for a better Saturday, actually. The late breakfast had been unhurried and then they'd driven to Montauk. They'd found an inviting seafood grill house by the harbour and made a reservation for the early evening. Then, filling in the hours between by wandering around the shops and sights, they'd strolled with their arms around each other, being all touristy and enjoying themselves.

Just normal.

Just bliss.

And later that evening, as they had held hands across the table waiting for their appetisers, Samantha pointed out that dinner at the grill didn't count as a dinner out would in the city. Jack had shrugged bemusedly, and said he'd think about it. All the while his thumb had been gently rubbing the back of her hand.

Samantha arrived back at the house rather out of breath and found Jack perched on the small balcony that led out of the main bedroom, enjoying a huge mug of coffee. She knew that he'd been watching her slow progress. As he waved to her, she watched as a grin spread across his face, like the summer sun.

Xx--

Eyes closed, Samantha tiredly slumped against the side of the large open shower, letting the warm water cascade over her tired muscles for some time. When the water suddenly stopped, she opened her eyes to find Jack standing there, his hand pulling away from the shower mixer, a towel over one shoulder, and a gentle look on his face

Looking at him, she wasn't going to bother to hide the fact she'd overdone her exercise. "I hope you're not being optimistic." She may have been naked and dripping wet, and Jack was fully clothed, but she certainly wasn't in any mood for any sex, anywhere or any how.

Jack shook his head, loving her bedraggled look. "You said I'd keep… I just think you've been in there a bit too long." He held out the big, inviting towel for her. "Come on, sweetheart. Let's get you dry and then we'll go do nothing on the beach for a while."

She smiled gratefully, sleeking her hair back while he enveloped her in the towel.

Xx—

Doing nothing really was its own reward.

Resting her head on Jack's stomach, Samantha was enjoyably bored as she read a section of yesterday's newspaper, while he watched a couple of clippers sailing off shore. The wind was nicely cooling in the shade and made the edges of the beach umbrella flap. Jack had found the umbrella along with a suitable blanket to lie on in the garage. The place had everything and Jack found himself wishing he could afford a small place somewhere like this. But this was the Hamptons, so the chances were zero divided by zip.

Thinking along that line, he took a deep breath and slowly exhaled. "What do you think -we'll come back again some time."

Samantha was pleased at the idea. "Oh, yes -when abouts?"

"When we can -and we could find a little bed and breakfast to stay in."

A room for them and one for the girls; he knew they loved the beach.

A real family affair.

She turned her head to look at him, getting a small kick from his train of thought. "Is this called planning ahead -together?"

"I'd say so. Do you like the sound of that?" he asked, looking down his chest at her.

"I _love_ the sound of that. Does it have to be here?"

"Is there somewhere else you want to go?"

She didn't hesitate. "Alaska. I want to go back to that place we stayed in for the Prichard-Raymond case –but this time we get to share a room and I can show you how frustrated you made me."

"You know I had my reasons…" Jack reminded her. "And while I could almost handle that cheap motel again, I think Alaska's a bit far for a weekend away."

"Then the Hamptons would be nice again," she said, uncrossing and moving her legs up into the umbrella's shade; she'd had enough sun for a while. Jack had studiously avoided the hot sun –it wouldn't have been a good look if they'd both turned up with some sort of tan -not that anyone had been particularly interested in what Jack was doing over the weekend, anyway.

Jack took one last look at the clippers, much further away now. "Very nice -and anywhere the Fitzgeralds aren't."

"Yes… and you know -we really shouldn't have used their master bedroom."

"It's technically not theirs and it had the best view and a balcony," Jack pointed out, a touch defensively. "Plus I wasn't the only one who made that decision." Although he had to admit to himself that he perversely enjoyed the irony of the situation: sleeping in Deputy Director Victor's bed with Victor's son's ex-girlfriend.

"Okay, I'm just as much to blame…" Samantha said, turning a page.

"And I think you can come to work a little later tomorrow, okay? So it seems like you had a long drive back."

"Is that a special dispensation from the boss?"

Nodding, Jack smiled. "There has to be some perk, I suppose –but only the once." He lifted himself up, elbows digging into the sand through the blanket. "I need a decent walk up the beach, before we tidy up and get going."

Samantha looked morose as she folded up the paper. "Mm –but I'd rather stay here."

"Me too," Jack said quietly, squeezing her arm in agreement; not wanting to get back to the oppressive, stifling heat of the city or the real world, either. "It's been a great week." _Possibly one of the best of my life._

"A great couple of weeks, actually… I suppose I should do some things at home."

"Me too. I need to do stuff on the computer for the girls and see Frank this afternoon, so I'll drop you off." Mentioning the girls reminded him about the fish tank –but he knew he still had time to find it.

"Okay, tonight at my place and I'm cooking." She was already looking forward to a nice long sleep-in.

He squeezed her arm again, happy with the way things were going between them. "That's what I was hoping."

Xx—

Samantha waved at Jack as she passed his office and found her way to the bullpen -no Vivian, just the boys.

Martin looked up expectantly and put down his danish. "Hey, good morning –how was the weekend?"

"Yeah," agreed Danny, rolling across in his chair. "We want all the details. Leave nothing out."

Ignoring Danny, she smiled at Martin as she handed the keys to him. "It was really great. The beach was lovely and the weather perfect."

Danny laughed. "You actually got to _see_ the beach?"

"I got a bit of sun," Samantha threw back.

Martin cast Danny a withering look before turning his attention back to Samantha. "I take it James had a good time too?"

"He did; he wanted me to pass on his thanks as well," Samantha said, fibbing smoothly.

Martin beamed, basking in the pleasure of having done something nice for another person.

She briefly put a hand on his upper arm. "Thank you," she said quietly. "It was really generous of you -and your mother."

"Hey, any time," he said, sincerely happy to have helped out.

They smiled at each other: a truce between them –at long last.

Jack had found Vivian and they were both coming in as Samantha made her way to her desk.

"It's time for that firearms test," announced Jack. "We certainly have the time; they have the technology."

"Who's up first?" asked Martin, eager to fire off some rounds.

Jack inclined his head. "Viv and the beach girl –they're waiting for you both… Good morning Sam," he said lightly, noting that his gerberas were still there on her desk, but barely alive in their vase. He decided to do something about it.

Still smiling, Samantha nodded her greetings as she pulled Jack's stone and shell out of her handbag and put them on her desk.

Jack couldn't resist. "Souvenir?" he asked neutrally.

"Yes, it seems I'm a sucker for them," she said, placing the shell on top of the stone and then moving them both again.

Jack was chuffed she'd brought them to work, but made sure he hid it. "Well, when you've finished re-arranging the furniture, you and Viv get down to the range."

"And no grinning while you do it, Samantha –there are rules," Danny said, running along with his letch role as far as he could. "You must have had a _really_ good time."

"Oh, please…" Viv rolled her eyes. "We get the point, Danny."

"At least _I_ have something to smile about," Samantha retorted to him in a good-natured way as she started to leave with Vivian.

"Hah! Not exactly your best comeback," Danny called out to their retreating backs as he rolled back to his desk.

If Danny had seen Jack's smug smile as he was walking away from the bullpen, he would have commented on that, too.

Xx--

A woman in love is a wonderful thing.

As they walked together to the elevator, Vivian glanced at Samantha and smiled. "It sounds like the weekend was a success." As if Samantha's dreamy, happy expression hadn't said it all. Vivian remembered being like that too –it seemed so long ago.

Samantha couldn't help herself. "I haven't had such a good time for ages."

"You like this guy," Vivian stated, pressing a button for the elevator.

"I really do. He's great -really."

"Really?"

"It's all just..." Samantha wanted to gush but didn't want to overdo it, either.

"Great?" Vivian helped out, amused.

The elevator arrived and they got in.

"Really great."

Vivian decided not to give in to her cynical side and be easy on the younger agent. "So, perhaps you might have finally found the one for you?"

"It seems like I've been waiting years for him." _Actually, I _have_ been waiting years for him…_ "He's funny, warm, thoughtful-"

"Good looking, I have to say," Vivian remarked, going for what she thought was the obvious –James and Sam would certainly make an attractive couple.

"Practically perfect," Samantha said, clearly seeing Jack at the beach in her mind, doing the guy thing of skimming stones across the water –or trying to, anyway.

Vivian thought she might invite them both over for dinner, perhaps in another week or so –it was going to be pleasant finally having another couple in the workplace. "Well, make sure you don't let him get away, then," she said, watching the floor number lights tick down,

Samantha knew where she stood in that regard. "I don't intend to."

Xx—

Later it was Martin and Danny's turn at the range.

While they reluctantly waited for the overseeing tech agent to fill in some forms on his PC, Danny paused in his earmuff examination and looked over at Martin. "You're definitely okay with this Sam and James thing?"

Martin –unhappy at the delay- was a tad nonplussed. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"Sam seems pretty hooked on this guy."

"I wouldn't have offered them the Hamptons place if I wasn't," Martin stated. "It's nice to see her happy again."

"Yeah, I guess Jack is okay with it all too. He seems to be."

Martin fought to stifle a groan. _It's always about Jack_. "He moved on some time back, I guess."

"Yeah, it would be weird if he was concerned and you're not. They were a bit off with each other a couple of weeks back, but I don't know why."

"Knowing those two, it could have been anything. What's it to you, anyway?"

Danny shrugged this time. "I've always found the whole thing interesting, that's all." He threw a small challenging look Martin's way.

Martin twirled his safety glasses between his fingers, remembering how the ghost of Jack had certainly loomed large between him and Samantha, even if she could never admit to it. He wouldn't have called it interesting and he wasn't pleased at being reminded. "Look, let's just get in there and shoot -I want to win that 50 bet."

"You're going to read my targets and weep, _perdedor_."

Unperturbed at Danny's bravado, Martin just glared at him. "Just you wait…"

The tech agent rolled his eyes as he finished preparing his paperwork.

It was always a swinging contest with the younger guys.

Xx—

A bouquet of roses arrived late in the afternoon, much to Samantha's delight.

Tetchy at losing the bet with Martin, Danny shook his head incredulously as he stared at them. "More flowers? I need to have words with this James guy; he's seriously letting the side down..."

Xx--

Samantha found Jack studying a can of tomatoes in an aisle of the store and looked over his shoulder. "I didn't think it would be that interesting."

Jack put the can and another into the basket he was carrying. "Just a different brand."

She placed some fresh cilantro in the basket also. "A bit strange being at a different market, I suppose."

"I think I can get used to it. You'll have to get used to mine sometime soon, too."

Samantha found some tomato paste to add to the things they'd chosen. "As much as I like having so many dinners together –we don't seem to be particularly busy with cases." Not that she was complaining; God knows how many times they'd all worked late into the evening and often into the next morning.

Jack had been wondering about that too. "I'm going to do something about it tomorrow. Being too busy or not busy at all; neither's very good for us," he commented, as they slowly walked down the aisle together.

"It's always the way." She looked at what they had gotten so far. "I think we need to get some pasta and a couple of bottles of wine –I haven't got any left." And chocolate, but that could be grabbed by the check-out.

Jack came to a standstill, raising his eyebrows. "Well, don't look at me –I'm following you."

Samantha smiled impishly as she leaned in to plant a quick kiss on his cheek and slipped her hand into his. "And that's just the way I like it."

Xx—

Next morning, Jack phoned NYPD after he had cleared his desk of the usual paperwork. "Are you just keeping all the cases to yourself or are there just less missing persons all of a sudden?" he demanded.

"Hey, don't point the finger at me -you know the criteria that have to be met before you guys get involved," Detective Estella Swann protested. She was the most senior in the NYPD Missing Persons Squad and closest to Jack's own position. She could also be just as prickly.

"Sometimes in the past you have made me wonder-"

"Actually the Squad's a bit snowed under and there's a case that just came through. You'd be helping us out if you took it off our hands."

"I'll take it. Send me the details and next time, don't make me beg, okay?"

That earned a snigger from Swann. "Well, I can't guarantee anything…"

Xx--

The team looked up eagerly as Jack came into the bullpen. "We got something?" asked Danny.

"A missing Tribeca chef."

"That's different," remarked Samantha. They'd all been going stir-crazy sitting around the bullpen, looking into old cases.

"This missing chef happens to be a twin."

"Not twins again…" said Martin, remembering.

On the same wavelength, Jack shook his head as he went to the whiteboard. "This time it's fraternal twins –which I'm damn happy for."

"A twin who's a chef…" Vivian was frowning in thought. "British -one of the Everard brothers? Of _LDF_?"

Surprised at Vivian's knowledge, Jack put the picture up. "Yes, and Gary Everard is the missing one-"

"_LDF_?" Danny asked, also intrigued at Vivian's sudden expertise.

She swung around a bit in her chair, glad to have the upper hand for once. "_Les Deux Frères_. It's been around a couple of years."

"I think I've heard of it," Martin chimed in, reaching for the file from Jack.

"But you said they were British," Samantha pointed out to Vivian.

"Yes, and they cook French cuisine –you can't blame them for that. And if you're wondering why I know, I do like to read restaurant reviews occasionally -not that Marcus and I go out much anymore," Vivian said, taking the file off an amused Martin.

Jack was waiting for them to finish, arms folded across his chest. "_Anyway... _I'll give you all a run-through and then we'll get going. Sam, it's your turn on the background checks-"

"If it's okay, can I do that, Jack?" asked Martin, wanting some alone time, as Danny appeared to be still peeved at having surrendered the bet money to him -so the office seemed a good idea.

"Prefer a day in?" Jack asked, not minding the substitute in the slightest as Martin nodded. "Okay then, Sam you'll be with us."

Again, some things can work out nicely without any help.

Xx--

To be continued


	18. At Les Deux Freres

**A/N:** Here we go. Thanks to the wonderful Mariel who betaed this with good speed; any mistakes are mine due to the usual tweaking afterwards that I really can't resist doing. And thanks to my naggers -they know who they are.

**Disclaimer:** CBS own _Without a Trace_ -although the way they're going, they don't really deserve it. New timeslot indeed...

Xx--

_Chapter 17_

_At Les Deux Frères_.

Xx--

Following Danny and Samantha to the restaurant, Jack and Viv shared a car.

"I saw your results from the firearms test –nice work," Jack commented, as they swung out into the street.

Vivian was texting someone. "Thanks. I even surprised myself. I think Sam and I were pretty even."

"Hardly anything between you –you just squeezed past her."

"Actually, the way she was acting I thought she might be a bit too distracted after the weekend... It's nice to see her finally happy."

The slight emphasis on _finally_ stood out like a sore thumb, but Jack wasn't up to calling her on it. He wasn't going to involve himself into a repeat of their 'garbage' conversation from years back. Relieved to be driving, he nevertheless found himself straining to keep the complacency out of his voice. "You're right; it is nice." _And it sure was a wonderful weekend_. He then found he had to bite his inner cheek to keep a straight face. Thank god Viv was concentrating on her cell phone.

Hitting send, Vivian looked over at him. "I'm going to invite James and Sam over for dinner sometime, get to know them better."

Dismayed at the suggestion and its ramifications, Jack's teeth nearly drew blood. Pretending to look at something on the opposite side of the street, he nodded, feeling he had to agree. "Good idea and kind of you to think of it…" he said, as disinterested as possible. "What's the address of the restaurant again?" he asked, lying as he knew full well where they were going. "I think Danny's planning on driving the scenic route." Anything to keep her mind off the subject.

_How the hell could we get out of that?_

As his tongue gently massaged the inside of his sore cheek, he decided he'd have to warn Samantha about it.

_James might have to be too busy that night –and any others._

Looking at their car in front, Vivian shook her head. "No, he knows where we're going. Perhaps he's taking another way to avoid some traffic ahead."

And Jack was wondering how he –as well as Samantha- could contrive to steer clear of being alone with Vivian in the foreseeable future.

Xx--

Keeping their heads down and trying not to be or look too disruptive, the team was led through the cool, contemporary restaurant by a waitress. It was well on its way to being a full house and Samantha couldn't help but notice a large, raucous group of women of various ages seated at a corner table, wondering how some people ever found the time. The team then found themselves in a cramped corner of a busy kitchen, as the orders for lunch were coming through thick and fast, distracting a tired Jeremy Everard .

"Christ, I wasn't expecting the men in black to be here. Is Gaz this much of a worry?" he asked lightly, after introductions.

"You thought it was serious enough to report him missing –I hope it is," said Jack firmly. "If you'd care to give us some details…"

Everard held up a placating hand. "Okay, okay, bad joke… To tell the truth I'm worried sick. It's not like him. He just walked out the back door about half ten yesterday morning, said he was going out for a ciggie and never came back. We were in two groups for a meeting –he was with the kitchen crew and I was with front of house - since ten. The guys talked and waited, then came and got me after about ten minutes."

"And you reported it this morning."

"I knew about the 24 hours thing and he should be here as our new menu's preview is starting today. It's too important to miss. I wound everything up, let everyone go and went looking for him about 11am and have been searching ever since." He was wringing his hands together in an agitated way as he talked, while also keeping an eye on his staff. "He doesn't even smoke much –he always said it ruined the palate."

"Were you open at all yesterday?" asked Samantha.

"No, we're closed Mondays but Gaz and I had been trying out some dishes –he was fine, really- and then the staff all came in and we discussed the menu and wines, going through some last minute fine tuning for the preview today. It's so not like him; the dishes are his creations, his babies." He rubbed his temples roughly. "Our mum is going to fucking kill me if anything's happened to him. She may be small and wiry and in England, but she's got a mean cane."

Danny was investigating a row of knives. "So, who was at the meeting then?"

"All the kitchen staff were in here with Gaz and all the front of house were with the maitre d' and me. I asked the crew if anything had upset him but they couldn't say. Hang on…" He summoned over a waiter on his way to the dining area balancing two plates of food. "Aw, look at this mess -it's meant to be the dog's bollocks, not the dog's breakfast. Hey, Chris!" he yelled across the agents and the waiter. "Re-plate for table 12; it's bloody awful -get your act together, okay?"

"Yes, chef," a deep voice called back, half-heartedly as the waiter returned to him.

Everard frowned. "You _what_?"

"Yes, chef!" the voice yelled back.

Everard pulled a face. "He's better than that. Every damn wannabe chef thinks they're either the next Anthony Bourdain, Gordon Ramsey or that they'll be a contestant on _Top Chef_. Too many dreams of fame and not enough hard graft, but not our Chris." He rubbed his eyes. "Look, this is bad timing; we've just started lunches, and it's just not a good-"

"Do you actually want your brother found, Mr. Everard?" Vivian cut in tersely, the whole glamor of an expensive restaurant rapidly wearing off.

"Yes of course, damn it! We need him –the crew's not happy with him gone."

Jack changed tact. "You and Gary get on well together?"

The chef sighed. "Seriously, Gaz's my best mate, always has been –we decided we would be chefs together, apprenticed with the Roux Brothers together, set this up together…" He lowered his voice. "You have to understand what we're about. He's really the star; he's got the ideas and the spark. I feel I'm just a jobbing chef but with him, I'm magic -_we'r_e magic, and I'll be the first to admit it –I need him more than he needs me."

Jack understood. He turned to his team. "There's not enough space here. Viv and Martin –you go look for leads and sightings outside. Sam, you check out his apartment. I'll stay and question the staff, and Jeremy -I'll be talking to you some more."

"I'll be here," Everard said before taking a step backwards, his attention diverted as he was handed an order after it had been barked out by another chef.

"You're staying…Getting nostalgic, Jack?" Samantha ribbed.

Looking around the bustling kitchen, Jack nodded as he thought back to his time at the_ Russian Tearoom._ "Some things really don't change… All right, I'll start with the washers and pastry chef and work my way backwards as the time passes." Jack moved over to the other side of the kitchen as Danny and Vivian filed out the back door, while Samantha waited for Everard.

He was muttering while still studying the order. "I don't like this -light first course and then salad, salad and more bloody salads… Hey, Audrey!" he yelled. "The Lunching Ladies are heading for a blow-out; better make sure we've got enough of the chocolate desserts for the 12 of them. You know what they're like!"

"Yes, chef!" a female voice answered back.

Samantha caught the momentary indulgent look in Everard's eye and smiled.

He noticed. "Well, it's not exactly a secret about us – what she can do with chocolate ganache is lethal for me. We've been going out a few months…" A thought hit him why Samantha was standing there. "Oh yeah, I'll give you my copy of Gaz's keys," and he fished out a bunch of keys from his chef's pants and then pulled two off. "It's not far and I was there yesterday afternoon looking for him. I've left a ton of messages on his home phone and the bugger's turned his cell off –I couldn't really tell if he'd been at his flat or not, and here," he pulled a folded piece of paper out of another pocket, "this is his address and a list of people I know he knows. I hope it's of some help."

Even though she already had the address from the file, Samantha thanked him as she took the keys and paper, then she glanced over at Jack –already in the midst of interviewing the dish washer guy- before she left.

She was thinking this could be a nice place for them to come for dinner, some day soon.

Xx--

An hour later, Jack found Everard nursing a bottle of water, seated on one of a pair of small sofas in an office-living room upstairs, appearing to be staring at nothing. He pulled up a chair and sat across from him.

Jack waited a few moments until he had Everard's attention. "Considering how important you said today is for you, should you be abandoning your staff at a time like this?"

Everard waved a hand with two overlapping blue band-aids on the back it, and sighed. "Chris is a good chef -for all my yelling at him and the rush is pretty much over. Right now it's just late-comers and desserts. The maitre d' will give me feedback later."

"How's the cut?" Jack asked, gesturing towards the band-aids.

Wincing as he inspected it, Everard had almost forgotten about it. "Embarrassing after all this time -I can't concentrate and I shouldn't have interfered with Raul's garnishes, let alone use his knife…You will find him, won't you?" he asked, eager for assurance.

There was always some sort of stock answer to that. "We're doing our best… How's the business going?"

Everard gestured towards the desk. "You can check the books with our accountant –we're fine. Not making tons of money but we're doing nicely. There have been whispers we're in line for a Michelin star, which would mean great business, but I'm not holding my breath –they're often more trouble than they're worth. Right now it's about the food and experience. Maybe when we open another restaurant –one day... I'm racking my brain trying to think what's up, why Gaz would go off like that."

"Any relationship problems? Family?"

"His wife went back to Kent with Daniel -their son- about a year and a half ago. He hasn't been seeing anyone that I know of, and he'd certainly tell me."

"Are they in contact?" Jack asked, getting out his cell to phone Samantha.

"Definitely. He tells me snippets from time to time from their emails. She couldn't adjust to New York and a chef's hours are crap. It wasn't the best parting of the ways."

Reaching Samantha, Jack reminded her to check for a passport, and to go through the emails on his PC -if she hadn't done so already. Closing the phone, he looked back at Everard, now staring at the wall at a picture of the twins when they opened their restaurant; obviously a happy time. "Were they married long?"

"Five years. She's actually living near our mum, helping her out and letting her see Dan lots. Our dad died 7 months back. He'd been sick for a long time –we couldn't get back for the funeral."

"That must have been rough."

Everard was reflective. "Yeah, it was. He loved our food did the old boy… I don't have much else to say, sorry. I can't think straight."

At that moment Audrey's face appeared, hesitantly looking around the door. "Are you okay, Jeremy?" she asked, worry clear in her voice.

Everard smiled gratefully, holding his uncut hand out to her. "I am now -come on in, darling…"

She perched on the edge of the sofa and took Everard's damaged hand in hers, examining it gently. "I know it wasn't deep but it looked nasty."

Everard shrugged nonchalantly. "You know us -ever ready, ever hard, we are the Everards," he said, putting his arm around her.

Watching them as he got up to leave, Jack thought how satisfying it would be in a relationship where you didn't have to hide yourselves away, and began to feel a bit intrusive at the small scene.

Everard looked up at Jack. "We're finished for the moment?"

Jack nodded. "I'll be downstairs talking to your waiting staff." Outside on the landing, he paused to get out his notebook.

"Oh hell Aud, I miss him…" he heard Everard say, muffled no doubt by Audrey's shoulder.

Xx—

Samantha found Jack in the front of the restaurant, going over his notes, sitting in a chair with his back to the restaurant. He was absently chewing on a thumbnail; she always thought he looked endearing when he did that.

"You're taking time off?" she asked, sitting in a spare chair next to him. She noticed the smallest patch of white powder on his shoulder.

"Hardly," he said, smiling at her and then he gestured over to the maitre d'. "He's the last one to be interviewed; just taking care of some checks." Jack was glad to have Samantha by his side again, as always.

She belonged there.

"Any luck here? I gather this is where he spends most of his time."

"I think both brothers are like that; they seem to sleep on the sofas in their office several nights a week and at least we know he hasn't skipped the country. What were his emails about?"

"He hasn't kept any he's sent, but hers to him are still there –mostly about how their son is. There's some correspondence with some other chefs and people in the restaurant business, and quite a few ideas for recipes in his files. Rather impressive –he has pads and pens all around his apartment to jot down when ideas come to hand. The techs are looking at the hard drive but I don't think there's anything to be concerned about."

"Hmmm…" Jack was pensive as he flipped a few pages.

She glanced at the patch again; it looked like a dusting of flour. "What's up?'

"Just working him out. He's well-liked, focussed on his work, even-tempered with his staff and they're concerned for him; the kind of guy that lives for his job." Samantha nodded, knowing that type quite well and one just happened to be sitting next to her. Jack went on, "Jeremy's happy for us to go over the books, so we'll do that once I've finished here and," he looked at his watch, "their accountant is hopefully on the way now."

"How about Viv and Danny?"

"They went in separate directions but nothing as yet. Martin didn't have much, although he said Gary had made a few calls in the last month to his ex-wife, they were only a couple of minutes long and he hadn't phoned them within the last 2 weeks, and she hadn't phoned him either."

"No news isn't always good news. It's easier when we know something's up," she said, stating the obvious.

"That would help –yes."

Samantha turned in her seat to look back toward the dining area, peering through a ficus that was part of a row separating them from the main dining area. "Seems those dessert-mad women are still making a noise over there," she said, a small sound of disapproval mixed with jealousy in her voice.

Jack had been hearing them the whole time he was interviewing –a rowdy background buzz, no doubt from all the wine that they had been consuming. "Frankly, I find it all too scary."

"Hasn't all this food made you hungry?" she asked, catching glimpses of ornate desserts being served nearby.

Jack put his notebook away and shifted in his seat to give her his full attention. "I can tough it out –if you want, I think there's a hot dog stand around the corner."

"What a let-down that would be," Samantha said, a wistful look on her face as she intentionally bumped her shoulder against Jack's upper arm, perilously close to the white patch. It didn't budge.

Jack smiled and bumped her back. "What -you think New York's finest food doesn't stack up against this fancy French cuisine?" he asked her quietly.

She bumped him again. "Oh please," she whispered, grinning at him. "As if! Have you _seen_ the desserts?"

His turn to bump. "Maybe they do take-out here; we could sit in the back of the car and eat it."

Samantha was thoughtful. "Actually, I like the idea of us being in the back of the car -without the food." Then she could fight it no longer and reached a hand over to brush the flour away. "There, it's gone now."

"Oh, thanks," Jack said, not knowing what she had actually done, smiling as their eyes locked for some time. He leaned down a little. "And how about we come back here soon, for that intimate dinner I promised you…" His voice was deep and gravelly, just as Samantha liked it.

She knew he knew how to push her buttons just by talking. "You're a mind reader; definitely."

He tipped his head towards the kitchen. "After we've found 'Gaz', that is –otherwise we may not be welcome."

"Another good idea."

"I've been known to have them," he said, his eyes soft.

She looked at his lips, curling gently in amusement, and she suddenly wished they were at home. "Uh-huh."

"Mm."

"Uh, excuse me?" A voice interrupted them. They looked up from their trance to find the maitre d' standing near them. "Sorry to keep you waiting; I'm free to talk now…"

Falling back into their professional demeanors, they started to question him.

It could have been worse; at least Danny and Vivian hadn't been about.

Xx--

Martin had nothing else to report, but by now Jack wasn't surprised. Martin had then asked if he could go out for a short while –to top up his pill supply, but Jack wasn't to know that.

Danny had more luck; he'd found a back street bar several blocks away that Gary Everard had been drinking in for a couple of hours. Viv had joined him so they could follow the trail from there. Gary had been a quiet drinker, paid in cash and had said nothing to the barman while he nursed his glass in a booth in the corner. "He was noticeable in his chef's checkered pants and shirt. We've got a few more questions to ask, and then we'll see what we can find from here," Danny informed Jack via phone, while Samantha was going through the accounts on the computer with Everard.

Samantha -wondering what was holding the accountant up- felt she had to ask Everard a certain question: "What's this?" She pointed to a line on the PC screen. "'Lock 'Em Up'? You appear to have a monthly subscription –care to elaborate?" she asked matter-of-factly, the worst coming to mind.

Everard was shaking his head. "No, no -nothing like that!"

"Well?"

"It's our self-storage place." Jack's ears pricked up at that and walking over to the desk –where Everard and Samantha were, he asked Danny to hold. "We brought over a lot of stuff from the UK and we stash it there."

"Such as-"

Shrugging, Everard didn't have to search his memory hard. "The usual -such as clothes, some furniture, our bikes-"

"Bikes -as in…" Samantha was getting tired of prompting.

Everard smiled sheepishly. "Our one indulgence to the American dream –we have a Harley each, nothing too flash. We go out and ride every now and then, then play a bit of footie. Not as often as we'd like I'd have to say, not these days."

"And when was the last time you went to your storage space?" Jack interjected.

"I was there about 1am this morning. He hadn't been -the bikes were still there."

After being affable all morning, Jack rolled his eyes irritably as he put the phone back to his ear. "But he may have been there since –Sam, give me the address; Danny, I've got a new place for you to check out."

Danny nearly deafened Jack. "Did I hear that right? Seriously –Harleys?" he asked, unable to hide the glint in his loud voice.

Xx—

Standing in the large storage unit, Danny was whistling over the phone while Vivian poked about. "Ni-ice…" Jeremy's Softail Fat Boy was there, but Gary's Dyna Low Rider was gone, with some chef's clothes dumped by an open suit case. "Well, at least we know he's going to blend in this time -unfortunately."

Everard had been pacing in the office while hearing Danny over the phone. He stopped by Samantha. "I bet the sod took my black helmet! He's wanted it since I got to choose it first."

Danny's voice was a bit hesitant. "Ah, no – there are two helmets here; a silver one and black one."

Jack turned to Everard. "I hope he hasn't gone biking without one –although it would make him easier to spot."

Everard slapped his forehead. "That means the bugger's taken his old beaten up shorty helmet –it's as useless as tits on a bull; I threw mine out. That's why we got the new three quarter ones. And if he's got clothes from out of the suitcases, he could be wearing any old thing."

Jack asked Danny to send an up-to-date report to the NYPD to be on the look out state-wide. He looked at Everard, now seated again on the sofa, a look of panic on his face. "I'll be frank, if he's decided to just vanish, he could be anywhere. We'll do our best."

Everard was now leaning forward, cradling his head in his hands. "I just wish I knew why…" he whispered morosely.

Samantha went over and sat next to him, putting an arm around his shoulders, feeling for the man. "We'll do our best," she reiterated, although the look she and Jack shared didn't hold much hope.

They knew some people didn't always want to be found.

Xx--

To be continued.


	19. Secrets

**A/N: **Thanks to Diane for stepping in as beta this time around -I've been tweaking so any mistakes are mine as usual. Trish will notice a few changes as she got her hands the original as a special treat when she was Downunder.

And a big thanks to Mariel, because she's made my world a brighter place since I've gotten to know her.

**Disclaimer**: I still don't own WAT, because CBS does and kudos for them for giving us the sublime, the wonderful _Better Angels_ episode -absolute _bliss_...

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* * *

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**Chapter 18 -Secrets**

Jack's jacket had been thrown on the sofa; his shoes had been hurled across the bedroom, where they'd landed next to the bed cushions. He sat solidly on the side of the bed as Samantha stood in the bedroom doorway, his retrieved jacket in her hands.

He was frowning. "I fucking hate it when it goes like this."

Sam knew well enough how frustrated he got when a case went nowhere; they all did, but Jack always felt it more keenly. "I know."

"I hate the waiting game."

She went over to his closet and hung up his jacket. "Yes."

They'd gone to the storage unit and managed to piece together a trail back to the first bar via some more bars where Gary Everard had been drinking; quiet and unassuming. After that they'd returned to the office, where Jack had skulked around his office like a caged bear for a couple of hours as usual, until he decided they should all call it a day.

He surmised that Gary Everard would return when he was good and ready.

Jack fell backwards on the bed. "Sometimes I feel so damn useless..."

Samantha sat down beside him. "You're not. You know how it goes."

There would probably be another case tomorrow, no doubt this time involving foul play that would supersede the Everard case and take up the time, and the old case would become colder and you couldn't wait anymore because there were other things to do, more people to search for.

Jack sighed. "I should know better than anybody."

Smiling at him indulgently, Samantha reached down and lightly patted his stomach. "Drink?" she asked, figuring he needed it as well as the distraction.

"Make it a large whiskey and you've got a deal."

She stood up. "Anything else?"

"Not right now." He'd get over it shortly; he had to; he would. At least if you found a missing person dead, you had some sort of closure; this kind of case could just get at you if you let it.

"Gary will come back. You said he doesn't seem the type," she offered, in a small way.

Staring at the ceiling, Jack nodded. "You're right…" He watched her leave and then looked back at the ceiling, knowing it was of no help. "To hell with it…" he murmured, making the decision to let the day go, and he hauled himself upright.

Catching up with her in the kitchen, he put an arm around her shoulders, pulling her close.

"God, I love having you with me," he said, kissing her temple.

Samantha smiled happily. "Me too."

Again, Jack wondered how he'd ever survived without her.

She understood him; she understood the job.

And tomorrow it would be business as usual.

Xx--

Jack was in his office when he got a call at 3.07p.m. on Friday. He listened, wrote down an address and then went to the bullpen where the team was. "Looks like Gary Everard's finally turned up." He'd been fielding calls from Jeremy for the past two days –which he didn't mind so much but there had been no news to give.

"Great timing," muttered Vivian, unfortunately thinking out loud, seeing her planned family weekend off to a bad start.

Jack shook his head. "It's okay -he's at a hospital somewhere in New Jersey. I'm going over to tie up the loose ends and I'd like to take you, Sam –since you were with me in the restaurant," he said matter-of-factly and looked back at the rest of the team. "If you could all finish off your reports and head home; I'll pick them up later when we get back from the Garden State."

"Sounds good, thanks boss," Danny said, already opening up the file on his PC, winking at Vivian. Martin was circumspect as always while Samantha smiled broadly –glad to hear about Gary, and being able to be alone with Jack.

"Okay then, I'll catch you all later, have a good weekend and Sam, if you want to grab your things…" Jack said, striding back to his office, eager to get going.

Xx--

The doctor informed Jack and Samantha that Gary Everard had regained consciousness for a mere ten minutes and they weren't surprised to find Jeremy sitting by his battered and bandaged brother's bedside.

"…And don't worry, Chris is looking after things, and he's promised not to bring in any Asian fusion specials again."

"That's good to hear," Gary whispered.

Jeremy was obviously determined to keep a smiling face despite his brother's injuries. "When you're better we'll go kick the ball around again, and how about some cricket? We haven't played it for years."

Gary nodded infinitesimally. "I'd like that and the same rules we played with Dad…"

"Yeah, the rip, shit and bust version and maybe we could see if there's an ex-pat team about; I'll need the practice as I haven't stumped you for so long, I think the time must be right."

Giving a small spluttering cough, Gary managed to laugh. "I'd like to see you try."

"If there's one game I can't get a handle on –it's cricket," Jack interjected, getting the brothers' attention. "Jeremy, can we have some time with Gary?"

Jeremy got up and introduced Gary to the agents while gripping his brother's hand tightly. "I won't be far," he said to Gary before leaving.

Seating themselves in chairs by the bed, Samantha decided to take the lead and smiled at the bedridden chef. "You managed to make yourself disappear quite well for a while."

"I needed to get away."

"And we'd like to know why."

Gary tried a painful, one-shouldered shrug. "Just stuff... I needed to get away."

Samantha clearly wasn't believing him. "Without telling your brother? He's been worried sick about you. We know you're quite close –are you having any problems with him?"

"No –but sometimes… sometimes you need to get away..." he reiterated, his voice trailing off as he looked away from them both.

Jack had been quiet, studying Gary. "Tell us what happened." There was no response. "Gary…" Jack's voice had a slight tone in it.

This time when he looked at the agents, it was unflinchingly. "The accident? You tell me –I don't really remember."

Pulling out a faxed report from his jacket pocket, Jack studied it for a moment. "You 'swerved to avoid a large animal' –you don't even recall what it might have been- smashed into a tree on the corner and you ended up down a bank. Or so we've been informed by the attending officers and from what you managed to tell them at the accident scene."

"Yes," Gary said, succinctly.

"You were lucky there were other motorists there."

There was a slight pause. "Lucky –yes, I suppose so…"

Jack waited a few moments, sizing him up further, then he looked over to Sam. "Can you excuse us for a few minutes?"

She raised her eyebrows. "Ah… yes, of course." She may have been surprised, but she left quietly without question.

Waiting until her footsteps had receded, Jack then moved his chair closer to Gary's side and leaned forward. He smiled to alleviate Gary's now wary expression and kept his voice soft. "Okay, now it's just us; off the record, do you want to tell me what really happened?"

Gary in turn studied Jack. "It's just like the report said-"

"Come on Gary, you and I both know that's crap. No-one else saw an animal; yes, the other motorists were further back but they said it seemed like you weren't going to take the corner, almost as if you were aiming for that tree."

"They're wrong. The animal just came out of nowhere-"

"I said this was off the record… Look, we may not have met but I think I've got a pretty good idea of where you're coming from." Gary grunted in a challenging way, now staring at the end of the bed. "You might not have been purposefully trying to kill yourself, but I think that you were… just beyond caring what happened next."

He waited to let his words sink in, knowing he was on the right track –after all, he'd been there once himself.

Jack then held up a hand, counting fingers. "Let's see if I can't tick them off for you –foremost, your wife left you because of the job and the business and took your son back to England -that must really hurt, being away from your child."

"It did… and it does."

"I'm not arguing with you -because I can relate to it. It's tough as hell and it hurts –that emptiness."

"I called her from a phone booth after I left the restaurant. She just didn't want to know how I was feeling, she was in a rush, Dan was screaming in the background. I tried to ask her if she wanted me to come over and see them… but she fobbed me off, said next year maybe and said since I hadn't bothered before, why should I now?"

"Harsh."

"And it's so bloody true. There's always something holding me up."

Jack held up another finger. "Then there was your father dying and you didn't go back to his funeral, so there's probably no closure there."

"We couldn't make it; we'd been booked to cater some large events so there was too much on. Jeremy and Mum said it would be okay –Dad would have understood, but…"

Jack continued: "Your mother you never see, although since you help her out financially you've probably reasoned the money takes care of her; even your separated wife sees her more than you do."

"That's the only good thing, that Mum sees Dan."

"Also, there's Jeremy, who worships you –it's got to be hard being the one to take the lead all the time, with the pressure of owning a Manhattan restaurant; rumors of a Michelin star; constant strain of consistently coming up with great ideas for dishes –for what it's worth, I worked in a restaurant when I was young, I know how it can be."

Gary was now silent, watching Jack.

"Have I left anything out?"

More silence.

"You call your ex and then you decide to 'get away' as you so lightly put it. Go drinking, try to think up a plan to solve everything. Drive around on your bike for a few days –good idea taking cash with you so you can gas up or find a motel without leaving a credit card trail, shows foresight. And then you think about coming back, when the guilt of escaping eventually gets to you. But you go for one last run before returning…"

Jack's attention was no longer on Gary now.

"You're tired and you're not thinking -due to too _much_ thinking. You see that telephone pole -or tree or whatever- and probably consider 'Why the hell not?' –or perhaps you just don't process it at all, and you just keep going, not caring one way or another…" he trailed off, lost in his own painful memory of that late afternoon, many years ago.

Gary made a heavy, shuddering sigh. "You seem to know a lot about what's going on in my head."

_You have no idea_.

"Well, it's my job," Jack said, covering himself.

"You said off the record?"

"You have my word."

Gary was quiet, but when he slowly brought a hand up to his face, Jack could see tears welling in his undamaged eye before he wiped them away. "You're right... Damn it, you are _so_ bloody right."

Jack wasn't surprised. "Big and small things add up."

"And it all just seemed like it was all suddenly pointless… I just got so bogged down in the damn restaurant, in the city I've always wanted to live in… and it's sucked me dry. I feel so useless and… and…"

"Empty," Jack filled in.

"That's it –that emptiness you mentioned. I don't even know if I really _was_ trying to kill myself…"

"You just wanted something different."

"Yes… anything. I was beyond caring by that stage."

"And you kept going straight ahead."

"Straight ahead."

"It was so easy…"

Gary nodded. "Such an incredibly simple thing to do…"

_Too damn simple._

_And with no thought to what the consequences would be, one way or another._

_But they always come back to haunt you, one way or another._

There was silence between them, each man focussing on his own inner pain and certain events. Then Jack suddenly got up. "I can get you someone to talk to –off the record, of course."

"You think it could help?" Gary asked, grasping for hope.

"I do, and I know it's better than having no-one there for you at all."

_I should know._

Xx--

Jack found Samantha, Jeremy and now Audrey sitting together in the hospital café. Jeremy sprung up when he saw Jack. "All done?" he asked, clearly anxious to get back to his brother

Jack smiled. "Barring us doing our reports, the case is over -he's all yours again."

Smiling in return, Jeremy grabbed Jack's hand with both of his, shaking it hard. "Hey, you and your team are great. Anything we can do for you, anything at all…" Audrey came and stood by Jeremy, as happy as he was.

"I'm seriously going to take you up on that, quite soon," Jack said, glancing at Samantha.

Jeremy nodded. "I got you, and you know the number, give me a call when you want to book," he said, grinning widely as they left to go back to Gary.

Jack watched them for a moment before turning back to Samantha. "A happy ending is a good thing," she said, stating the obvious.

He nodded and waited, thinking about his talk with Gary, and their similarity that led them down the same road, so to speak.

She'd been dying to ask and had Jeremy and Audrey to divert her –enduring their pleasant small talk while all she really wanted was to be back with Jack. But now Samantha looked into her paper coffee cup, staring at the small remaining puddle, wondering how to broach the subject. "You seemed to know what was going on with Gary… about his accident. And then you asked me to leave…" She looked up at him. "Is there something –anything- you want to tell me?"

There was no reply as Jack seemed to be half-listening.

"Or talk about, maybe?" she added, wanting to draw him out.

Now he looked at her, taking in her curious eyes, touched by her concern; it was entirely natural that she would pick up on something and ask him about it.

He loved her.

But he'd also loved Maria once and he'd told her.

She had used it against him, viciously.

Unforgivably.

However… this was Sam.

His Sam.

_She understood him; she understood the job._

She loved him.

Surely he could tell her about what happened all those years ago, why he did it, and know the knowledge was safe with her.

She would never use it against him.

But he'd also had thought that of Maria and she thrown it at him at that deposition.

Torn, he looked at his hands, his fingers unconsciously brushing over where his wedding ring had been, before meeting her earnest gaze again. Shoving his traitorous left hand in his pants' pocket he then shrugged, knowing it was always easier to give advice to other people than apply it to yourself.

He gave her a small smile of reassurance,

"No," he said quietly, yet firmly, "nothing at all."

Xx—

Later that night, Samantha was leaning against Jack on the sofa, chewing her lip as she fixedly worked on her crossword while he read the team's reports. A news channel was playing on the television, but Jack had muted it and was glancing up every now and then over his glasses to read the news ticker.

Keeping herself busy, Samantha knew she shouldn't pry any further, and if Jack wanted to keep some things to himself, then fair enough; she wasn't feeling the need to come clean about what she'd done in the past –if ever.

But it didn't mean she couldn't be irritated with him.

Jack looked over her shoulder to see how she was progressing. "Still no luck with 6 down?"

"I have no idea. I hate cryptic crosswords; I prefer plain ones -you know that. Can't we try sudoku?"

"Numbers don't have the same elegance as words. I like crosswords."

"Yes, but you're not doing this one." She frowned as she read the clue again. "Okay, I give in -what is it?"

"B-L-Y-P-E. Blype."

"And what does that mean?"

"It's the skin that peels off after sunburn."

Samantha digested this news. "First off: that is quite gross, and secondly I don't know how the hell you got that from the clue and worse -who actually had time to think up a name for _that_?" Pressing down hard with her pencil as she wrote the letters in, she wasn't about to concede that he'd also helped with another word. "Go back to your reports," she grumped.

Jack raised an eyebrow. "And here I thought you liked my help," he said dryly –guessing why she was in a mood with him, as much as she'd been trying to hide it. Her grouchiness –which would pass- was better than dealing with the alternative. There was a knock at the door and Jack glanced at his watch. "That must be Stevie; she said she'd be over sometime this week." He got up, causing Samantha to gently fall backwards against the cushions.

Opening the door, he found two pieces of paper thrust up to his face.

"One is my receipt for new ear phones. The other is list of herbs and spices I may or may not have left in your kitchen at one time or another. We need them back," Stevie announced.

"And it's nice to see you too," Jack said, as she took herself inside, heading towards the kitchen. He followed her, looking at the list. "And you need these now?"

"Mom's in a cooking frenzy –which is fine, but she and Dad have rediscovered their early 70s prog rock CDs. I had to get out before I did something dire."

"Come on, it can't be that bad."

"The songs don't end! They just go on and on and on… It's going to get nasty if it doesn't stop."

"In what way?" asked Jack, amused.

Looking more than a little surreptitious, Stevie grinned. "I'm thinking of putting a flame near their autographed Beatles' album as a serious threat to desist."

"Don't make me arrest you."

Stevie frowned, not sure if he was serious or not. "What for?"

"Crimes against vinyl –look it up."

Clearly thwarted, she shrugged and shoved her hands in her jeans' pockets. "Can I threaten to cut off their subscription to _Rolling Stone _instead?"

Going over to the cupboard where he kept cooking things, Jack nodded. "That would be perfectly acceptable."

"I'm happy to hear it… Frank's been asking for you."

"I've been a bit busy," Jack admitted. "I'll give him a call."

"A visit would be better."

"Yes, Mom."

"And the girls are looking forward to coming home –at least I think so," Stevie added. "I'm looking forward to making more money from you in about a week or so when they're back."

"At least you're honest, and the girls -you've heard from them?"

"Quite a bit actually. They're always sending me emails. Hanna's doing well with her mini-soccer club thing and Kate's sent me some neat animated stuff she's done."

"That's nice." Jack wasn't about to divulge that it seemed Stevie had heard more from them than he had. He wouldn't let it rankle him; girls were girls. He turned his attention back to the list.

Stevie was oblivious. "Hey, speaking of music, can I check out your CDs and any vinyl you have?"

"Most of the records are in the basement but sure, knock yourself out…" Jack said as he picked up small packets and jars of herbs and spices randomly. "Just don't solve any words for Sam," he muttered to himself, but Stevie was already gone.

Xx—

Samantha looked up as Stevie zeroed in on Jack's stereo in the corner, and watched her for a few moments as her fingers darted over various cases.

"Can I help?" she asked, causing Stevie to spin around with a yelp.

"Jesus, you scared me!"

"Sorry. Looking for something in particular?"

"Ah yes, Jack said I could borrow some CDs –I want to give Frank something different… Why are you here?" she asked bluntly.

Figuring she'd give as good as she was getting, Samantha smiled as she sat up. "I've been staying over."

"While the girls have been away," added Jack, coming in with a couple of small jars for Stevie.

"Oh…" was all Stevie offered.

"That's okay, isn't it?" asked Samantha, amused at the younger woman's look of surprise.

"Yes… no… that's fine, I just wasn't expecting…"

Jack held out what he'd found. "Sorry, I only found a few from your list. Did you get any of the CDs you wanted?"

"Ah, no -it's fine, I'll grab something later. And you really should get in contact with the girls sometime soon," Stevie said, taking the herbs off Jack as she scurried away. "I'll let myself out!" she called.

As the door shut, Jack looked over at Samantha.

"Do you have any idea what that was about?" she asked.

"I have no idea," Jack replied, truthfully. "Come on, let's finish that crossword."

"Together?"

"Together."

Xx—

Later.

Samantha pulled her knees higher against her chest, letting Jack's thrusts enter her more deeply. While his mouth was consuming hers, replayed thoughts crossed her mind, totally out of nowhere and not particularly welcome.

_Damn_.

Everyone needs to keep secrets and Jack obviously wanted to keep his.

_Fine_.

Some things are better left alone, and kept away from further investigation and interfering.

_Fair enough_.

This would be her compromise -letting him keep his meant that she could keep hers and if that meant it would keep the peace with Jack, then that ultimately was all right by her.

_Sorted_.

A small trade off, as anything else –like, by extension, Jack angry with her or even not being with Jack –was just unthinkable.

Certainly at times like these.

And then that train of thought was completely derailed and disappeared as quickly as it had appeared.

By the certain sounds Jack was making, she had better hurry up and concentrate on her own orgasm or get left behind.

She shifted her hips, moved her legs again and got a delighted moan in return from Jack which she then equalled.

Yes -some things really _are_ more important than others.

Xx—

To be continued.


	20. Sprung Part 1

**A/N:** A big thank you to Diane for stepping in to beta my work again, especially at this time of year. And thanks to my fellow Maple Streeters who keep the fun going!

This is a rather large chapter, so I split it up, however I'm posting the two parts together because that's how they were written and I wanted to get it all out there at once.

**Disclaimer: **I would like WAT to be mine, then I could play with it just like I do now, but for real. Unfortunately CBS owns it, so there you go.

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****Chapter 19 **

**Sprung**

**Part One**

Xx--

Monday morning.

Jack was returning from the break room to his office after filling his mug with coffee, idly glancing into what he thought would be an empty bullpen. Surprised to see Samantha there, he naturally went over.

"Good morning Sam," he said to her back, as if he hadn't seen her only a short time ago.

Sitting down, she swivelled around in her chair. "Good morning Jack," she said amiably, taking a sip of her own café-bought coffee.

Now standing by the bullpen table, Jack consulted his watch. "You're early," he stated. 'Fast' is what he really meant; he'd only dropped her off at her apartment a short while ago and in that time she'd changed and got a serious coffee –and here he was with the questionable Bureau brew.

She smiled at him mischievously, her head on one side. "I'm always on time," she said, looking at his lips, then dropping her eyes slowly down his body to his crotch, lingering there a moment before returning her eyes to his.

They'd had another very nice, uninterrupted weekend together and she wanted him to know it, even though they were at work.

Jack hoped there was no-one watching them, as this was exactly the sort of thing he'd wanted to steer clear of. He sat down nonchalantly as possible, letting her avoid gaze-temptation again and allowing his eyes to briefly take in who was or wasn't around.

Clear.

_Okay, since she was in that kind of mood…_

He smiled back at her. "I have to say… uh… You've been awfully quiet lately," he said in low voice.

She rolled her chair from her desk over to the other side of the table, perplexed. "I didn't think so. I'm still as talkative as ever –or so I thought." She'd gotten over her moping from the other night fairly quickly -at least she thought so.

"That's not what I meant."

She looked at him blankly.

"In… you know…" he put his mug to his lips, "in bed," he whispered, trying not to look as though he was.

"Oh…" Sam said, disarmed.

"It's not that you're exactly noisy…"

"I never thought of myself as a..." she also did the coffee thing, "...screamer."

"Oh no, you're not -but you're not exactly silent, either." He leaned back in the chair a bit. "But there has been a certain change… the last couple of times."

She knew she'd been caught out. "Yes, well… I suppose you'd really want to know why-"

"Definitely."

She managed to look as demure as possible. "I've been practicing."

Jack stared, his turn to be surprised. "Practicing."

"You know, when the girls get back… Their room is next to ours and you _know_…"

"I know I'd _love_ you to spell it out for me…" he teased.

"No! I just thought I would be more... quiet, that's all."

Jack was trying to keep a straight face, and losing. "How very considerate."

"And you should too, you _noisy_ man."

His eyebrows rose in protest. "Me? I'm not noi-"

Samantha suddenly looked up. "Hey Viv, how's it going?" she said a trifle loudly.

Vivian was looking very harassed as she came into the bullpen. "A good weekend gone crazy –how about you guys?" she asked, dumping her handbag on her desk.

"Oh, it was just okay," Samantha said first, not looking at Jack.

Vivian was now ferreting around in her bag, looking for something. "You and James managed to go out anywhere?" she half-asked.

"No, we stayed in," Samantha said, giving Jack a certain look. He was giving her a glower over her 'just okay' comment, as much as he knew she hadn't meant it.

"Nice…" Vivian remembered she was going to ask Marcus when would be a good night to get Samantha and James over –she'd ask him tonight, and right now searching through her bag was a priority.

"I didn't get up to much myself," Jack felt he should chime in. Samantha threw a raised eyebrow at him. He had -her.

Vivian grunted. "My life would have been easier if I had done nothing… Damn, I knew it -I've left my phone at home."

"You want to go home and get it?" he asked.

Finally turning to fully face them, Vivian smiled with relief. "I think I should –if that's okay. I'm lost without it -especially with Reggie on vacation and I need to keep tabs on him."

"Go for it," said Jack, magnanimously.

"I won't be long…" Vivian said, already on her way back out, leaving Jack and Samantha exactly where they were a few minutes earlier.

"Close call," Samantha pointed out.

"Well, we can continue this conversation later –we have a week to practice being quiet before the girls get back." Jack stood up.

"Bet you can't."

"Bet _you_ can't."

"You're on."

"That is something you can absolutely bet on," and Jack gave her a lingering look from her eyes to her lips, knowing they really should behave themselves. He turned around to leave just as Danny came along.

"Good morning and what are we betting on?" he asked Jack, rubbing his hands together in anticipation. "Something good?"

Jack waved a hand in Samantha's direction. "Sam can fill you in," he replied, pleased with himself.

Danny looked expectantly at Samantha -who was silently cursing Jack. "Uh… I think it was something…" _Shitshitshit_. "Something about you beating Martin in the firing range… sometime," she flailed.

"Well, it had better be a bet on me to win," he said, taking his jacket off and hanging it on the back of his chair. "It was -wasn't it?"

"Of course."

"Damn right -next time I'll kick his white collar FBI ass!"

_And I might just have to do the same to Jack_, thought Samantha, smiling. _But in a much nicer way._

Xx—

Tuesday.

After doing some routine paperwork, Danny and Vivian decided to have a look at an old, unsolved case they'd worked on together and thought to pay a visit to the family of a missing man in Harlem.

Unsurprisingly, as they were cold calling, no-one was home and as they were driving back to the Bureau, they found a road blocked off by the police.

"Interesting," noted Danny. "Let's go poke our nose in where it doesn't belong."

Getting out of the car, Vivian waved a finger at him. "You know NYPD hates uninvited guests."

"It _might_ possibly, vaguely relate to our case."

Vivian smirked. "Well, that's all right, then…"

They flashed their badges and slipped under the cordon to find someone in charge. A policeman directed them to a group of officers. There, they found a certain Detective James Alexander looking beneath a tarp covering a body.

Vivian caught his attention. "James! I didn't know this was your area. How are things?"

Standing up, James nodded in recognition. "FBI's finest!" He excused himself from the other police. "Come to check out some real cops, eh? Good to see you, too," he smiled warmly at Vivian, and then introduced himself to Danny. "You're right, it's not my usual stomping ground but I was nearby."

Danny smiled also. "So were we. And I was wondering when I'd meet Sam's latest: the guy who keeps sending her all those flowers."

Pulling off his latex gloves, James looked perplexed. "Latest? Well, I wouldn't put it like that -and I only gave her that one bunch when I came by your office."

Vivian and Danny looked at him blankly.

James felt he had to explain further. "We're not going out anymore, and it really was only a couple of dates in the end. Nothing serious came of it."

Frowning, Vivian cocked her head to one side. "You're not going out… together... at all," she stated deliberately.

James shrugged, unruffled at the news he was delivering. "The message she left on my answering machine a few weeks ago was fairly clear. There was no need to answer and she was right –we could never seem to get ourselves organised. No harm done."

"Is that a fact?" commented Danny, glancing at Vivian who had her brow even more seriously creased.

James continued, oblivious to the effect he was having. "And anyway, I was visiting my folks in Delaware not too long ago and met up with an old girlfriend. She's planning on moving here, so I'm not put out at all. Actually I think Sam made my life easier… How is she by the way –keeping well?"

Danny for once was at a loss for words. He looked over again at Vivian for help. "She's fine..."

Then, to be polite, they enquired about the identity of the body, made their excuses to Alexander and returned to the car in silence.

Slamming the car door shut, Vivian was pissed as hell. "I… am… an idiot!"

Despite the revelations, Danny smiled. "You only just realised this? Some agent you are!"

She groaned. "I can't believe it… And the other day I told Jack that I was going to invite Sam and James over for dinner. Damn it!" She slapped the dashboard. "He must have thought I was an absolute fool, and don't even ask me about yesterday morning –it's all so obvious now..." She covered her eyes with one hand, groaning again in frustration. "I can't believe they're on again."

"Are you sure it's Jack?" Danny asked, a mystified look now on his face, still digesting the news.

"I'll bet on it. They've been acting all over the place with each other ever since he came back from leave. I didn't know what the hell was up with them. She's already asked me to cover for her this weekend." Then slowly a light dawned. "Oh my God…of course -it had to be Jack she took to the Hamptons! I don't think Martin knows that part of it -and as for all those damn flowers..."

Danny nodded, but then his expression turned into something more thoughtful. "Well, I don't think it's all such a bad thing –her and Jack."

Vivian threw him a look.

He held up a hand in protest. "No, really! It was never really happening between her and Martin, or even that James guy –certainly by the sounds of it. Maybe… it's destiny," he announced, in a deep voice, trying to lighten her sour mood.

It didn't help. "Yeah, ha-ha, I'm laughing." Vivian shook her head in disbelief. "Samantha could have any guy she wanted –any guy! Why does she keep going back to Jack?" Even with their ups and downs, Jack was a good-looking man she'd admit, but not Vivian's type at all. He was her boss, her friend, a colleague and verbal sparring partner. The fact that Samantha could find him _so _attractive had somewhat always mystified her –like someone at high school telling you your brother was hot. "I just can't see them together –not in… you know… that way."

She could see Danny contemplating this, a sly smile forming on his lips and a contemplative look in his eyes. "Oh, I can…"

Which earned him a slap on the arm from her. "Danny –yuck!"

"Hey! What's wrong with it? I think they're good together, even with the whole boss-employee problem."

"Don't get me started on _that_… It's just not right," she said, folding her arms and staring out the window. "You know it's bad news. I spoke to him about it some time ago."

"Just let it go."

"No Danny! It screws everything up, it's against the Bureau rules and we have to deal with the aftermath when it all goes to hell."

Danny turned in his seat to face her. "Seriously -let-it-go, Viv. They're both single and if they want to be together, this time it might just work out. Don't stir things up."

"Why the hell not?'

"Because they damn well need some happiness, and they seem to find it with each other, like it or not." Then he grew even more somber. "If you want to do something more worthwhile to help someone, I think Martin's in trouble."

"It's going to be Jack in trouble when it comes to light. You should tell Martin before he finds out –or guesses."

"No way! And apparently he's better with a gun than I am these days," he said begrudgingly. "Aside from the fact I'm going to do more shooting practice -I don't really want to be there if or when he goes off… But seriously: no, I mean Martin's _having_ troubles, in other ways."

Vivian looked over at him. "Martin? No, I don't think…" She paused, thinking. "Well, I can't say that I've noticed anything too wrong lately…What do you think is up?"

"Quite a bit actually," and Danny proceeded to tell her of his suspicions about Martin's addiction, and –putting the onus on Vivian to do something- why he felt it shouldn't really be his place to deal with it.

"What about Samantha?" Vivian asked. "They were close, maybe she could help him."

"I don't think she should –or could- help him, not with this latest news about her and Jack. I don't think Jack would want his…" he searched for the appropriate term, "… _girlfriend_ helping out an addicted ex. No, we should keep this between us."

Vivian sat a few moments, thinking on it. "And all I ever wanted was a quiet life…Okay, I'll help in this intervention –but you definitely have to do your part."

"Look, I'm trying to study for my bar exam…" Danny stopped, and then, sighing -as if he knew he wouldn't totally get away with it- he nodded. "Fair enough… You play Mom and I'll play Dad."

Vivian then sighed herself. "Agreed. At least it'll be one problem solved, I suppose."

But Danny could sense still she wasn't letting go of the other predicament. "Viv, please -Jack and Samantha are not a problem –have they really been a problem at work? No, so just be happy for them, okay? There are worse things in the world to worry about than this new chance at whatever they want together… And we'll keep it quiet between us." It was more like a demand than a request.

Vivian scowled, and then reluctantly nodded. "Oh, all right… It actually explains a lot and I suppose a happy Jack –like he used to be- has been nice to work with again."

Danny grinned again as he started the car engine. "That's my girl."

Which earned him another slap on the arm.

Xx--

Samantha was about to take off her robe but was halted by the sight on the bed. "What's with you?" she inquired of Jack.

Sitting propped up on the bed, he looked at her over his glasses. "I said I had some department reading to do." He waved a pile of papers at her.

"But… boxers and a t-shirt? We never usually wear anything in bed –so far," she added, thinking it was only a few months to winter.

"You seriously think I'm going commando while reading Bureau stuff?"

"Well, that is a good point…" she said, getting on the bed and then climbing over to straddle his lower legs.

Turning his attention back to the reading matter, he purposely didn't look at her as a smile curled his lips. "That is so not fair…"

"What? I'm just sitting here…" and she began to run her hands up his legs, heading along his thighs and moving under his boxers.

To distract himself, Jack began reading aloud: "'Contrary to the earlier statistics mentioned' –_stop_ that, it tickles- 'in the prior paragraph, further studies will have to be made to pinpoint the efficacy-'"

"Oh Jack, you really know how to sweet talk a girl…" Samantha said, removing her hands to untie her robe and pulling it open somewhat. "Now, since we haven't for a couple of days-"

"Well, every night isn't compulsory-" Jack began, intentionally dropping his papers on the floor.

"As I was _saying_," Samantha said, playfully pinching his knees, "since we haven't for a couple of days, can we start our practice of trying to be quiet during sex -like now?"

Xx--

Wednesday afternoon.

Olczyk appeared in Jack's office. Jack looked up. "Did we have a meeting scheduled I don't know about?"

"Not really. Take a walk with me to the balcony."

Intrigued, Jack put his pen down and got up, wondering what was going on as he kept pace with Olczyk.

A couple of agents were out there smoking, but quickly stubbed out their cigarettes and scurried off after a look from the older man.

Jack squinted in the sun before putting his sunglasses on. "This isn't more cloak and dagger stuff by any chance is it?"

"No, no." Olczyk produced a couple of cigars from his jacket pocket. "Want one?"

"No thanks," Jack declined.

Olczyk put one away. "Keep it –but if you won't, I won't either…" He looked over the balcony into the distance. "Lovely day."

Putting the cigar in his jacket pocket, Jack nodded. "Not too hot," he filled in, waiting "maybe we'll be lucky for rain some time this week."

"You know, I sometimes wish I was back in the field –the action, the excitement."

"I'm sure."

"How's the chef coping in hospital?"

"He's going home soon… Alex-"

"How are the kids?"

"Having a great holiday with Maria's parents."

"They must miss their mom."

_Oh, for chrissake_… "I know they do. How about your sons?" Jack asked, as they were playing the small talk game.

"They're fine –both loving college, doing well, and we love the space it's given us… It's been a while since you've seen my wife, hasn't it?"

Surprised at the question, Jack searched his memory; she wasn't ever one for dropping into the Bureau. "Aside from you mentioning her during that Washington phone call and I can't say I recall seeing her at the last Christmas party-"

"No, she got a bit down after the kids left. She was happy working part-time and didn't really want to go full time, so she decided to have a bit of a personal make-over –you know the sort of thing -going to the gym, new hairstyle and color, total makeover."

"Good for her," Jack remarked, wondering if there was a point to all this.

Olczyk smiled. "Yeah, she looks great -and someone introduced her to a new circle of friends-"

_Why would this be important?_

Jack looked down into the street, wondering if he could escape Olczyk's rambling, hoping there was some point to his story. Turning around, he tried to casually look over his shades through the dark glass into the bullpen, imagining he could make out Samantha at her desk. He remembered watching her pin up her long hair before leaving his apartment that morning, and he was looking forward to unpinning it at home later-

"…And they've been keeping her busy -which has been great for her, and they even have a cutesy name -'The Ladies Who Lunch'."

Thoughts thoroughly evaporated, Jack looked over at Olczyk, keeping his face a mask behind his sunglasses. "That sounds familiar…" His attention went rapidly back to the restaurant and the clientele.

"Yes and she was at _LDF_ the other day when you were there."

"How about that…" Jack said, casually as he could although he felt like he'd just been led into a minefield.

Olczyk turned to face Jack. "She recognised you the moment you walked in."

…And then left behind.

"I can't say that I returned the favor. Tell her I'm sorry."

"I wouldn't expect you to… Very perceptive, women."

"Some can be."

"She's sharp. It's amazing what they can tell when you think no-one's looking…"

"I have no-"

"You know the rules about sexual relationships in the workplace."

Jack felt a certain familiar plummeting feeling.

_Fuck_.

"That's very… interesting, Alex."

"I thought you might think so. I told her not to be silly but you know what women are like… Once she got the idea into her head –it's been gnawing at her for a week now- and after that damn meeting with Anne Cassidy…Well, what am I supposed to think?"

"Like I said to you at the time -nothing was going on."

"Could you honestly say that now?"

Jack could have stood his ground, but for once, the fight just wasn't there. Drawing it out to make a false point wasn't going to happen.

_Shit._

He barely collected his thoughts for a second, choosing his words. "And… if I said that it wasn't technically a sexual relationship and that we are…" O_h sweet Jesus…_He couldn't even bring himself to say it; he'd never pictured himself in a million years having this kind of conversation with Olczyk –or many other people for that matter. So he left it. "Not that I'm admitting to anything," he said firmly, mustering something to use.

Olczyk nodded. "Apparently not… and if that was indeed the point then I would have to say that Jack Malone is an old romantic fool playing with definitions that went out with Clinton."

"You're the one that gave me the cigar… Just get to your point."

"By the way -you know where I met my wife?"

_For crying out loud._ "You may have mentioned it years back."

"She worked here, in those happy days when we had the typist pool."

"She was a colleague, then?"

"Not technically, but they gave her the choice when we got engaged. I didn't want her to leave, but it was for the best."

"Are you officially trying to tell me something, Alex?"

"Not officially. This is just two old work friends appreciating the sun… Let's just keep it simple."

"Simple," Jack repeated, not sure if the mines were really there or not -or if they were armed.

"Simple, like this: You know I suspect something. You know it's against the rules, but I also want you to understand that I understand. I don't want people leaving, especially you or… a certain colleague. I also understand that certain things between people just won't go away. So all I'm trying to say is just keep it quiet and discreet. We've got a damn good team here. Van Doren wasn't the only one that helped you out back then you know, and I can only defend you so far if the OPR gets wind of it."

"So…"

"That's all I'm saying. The subject is closed. This boys' club meeting is over."

"Should I say thanks?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about. Now get back there and find some people."

Jack nodded and left as ordered. He was a few feet away when Olczyk called out: "One more thing. Director Baines wants to take you, me and Taylor out for dinner in a few weeks when he's in town -to say thanks."

"Uh huh," said Jack, still walking.

"And you can even bring a date," Olczyk said loudly.

That stopped him. Turning around he gave Olczyk a blatant look. "Aw Alex, you have got to be kidding me… Seriously?"

"As serious as a broken arm. He said it would be fine."

Jack was feeling bloody minded. "After that lecture you just gave me?"

"What lecture?"

"So I shouldn't bring…"

Stepping towards Jack, Olczyk grinned wickedly. "I dare you –and worse, if you did you'd have my wife staring at you both throughout dinner, for good or bad."

"I'll keep that in mind," mumbled Jack, thinking there were good times to fly solo, although he knew Samantha wouldn't like it when he eventually told her.

He strode back to his office and shut the glass door, briefly looking up at Olczyk when he walked pass a few minutes later. Throwing his pen down, he turned in his chair to stare at his PC screen, wondering if he should tell Samantha about Olczyk's talk.

He couldn't believe they'd been spotted like that in the restaurant.

They'd been _fairly_ innocent, but evidently not innocent enough.

After a few moments of thought, he decided it would be best not to say anything –yet again- to Samantha.

One paranoiac was enough and she wouldn't be surprised if he kept some distance between them at work.

Like they were supposed to be doing.

Life really sucked at times.

Xx--

To be continued


	21. Sprung Part 2

**A/N:** Big thanks to Diane who got this chapter back to me post-haste! And thanks to Marianne, because she's a good nagger. Trish -_now_ you can finally see the bits I left out!

If you've landed here without reading Sprung, Part 1, then you should go back and read that first -as I posted them both at the same time.

Okay. This is an **M** rated chapter. I mean it.

****

* * *

**Chapter 19**

**Sprung**

**Part Two**

Xx--

Friday.

Jack lugged the pile of laundry into his bedroom and dumped it on the dresser. It had been hot work and he was tired and bored with it. Checking his watch, he noted that Samantha would be over in about an hour, so he decided to tidy the place up. After diligently washing a few stray dishes, tidying away his laundered clothes, putting some small gifts for the girls on their beds and vacuuming, he thought a quick rest was called for in the heat. Drawing the blinds in the living room, then turning the air conditioner down a degree, he sat down in an armchair, feeling a justifiably house-proud and that the time out was well-deserved.

He had the night and all tomorrow with Samantha before the girls returned on Sunday and was looking forward to whatever Samantha had planned this evening. Saturday night was his and he'd taken up Jeremy Everard's offer by making a reservation at _LDF_, and had discreetly asked if there would be any Lunching Ladies or Olczyks. He'd told Samantha already so she could plan what to wear. Shutting his eyes, he allowed himself to relax, thinking what a satisfyingly busy weekend had been planned and how wonderful it would be having his girls back at home again.

_The girls._

_The fish tank._

_Shit!_

Xx—

Dressed in a flowery cotton dress and feeling a little bit like Carrie Bradshaw, Samantha stood patiently on the stoop as she buzzed Jack's apartment for the third time as she checked her watch. She was on time, but where the hell was he? He was expecting her and she was expecting him to be ready.

_Men! Sometimes they were worse than women._

Her fashionable backpack -containing a change of clothes, wine, cheese, bread and grapes- was getting a little heavy on her shoulder, so she put it down beside her as she tried his apartment buzzer yet again.

Still having no luck, she got her cell phone out and called him, and when he answered, told him where she was.

A couple of minutes later he arrived at the door. "He-ey, you look lovely," Jack said, his smile making her forgive him instantly. He took in her dress, something bright and breezy which he'd never seen her in before. "Very summery."

Samantha was pleased he was pleased. "Thanks -I thought it might be nice for a picnic in the park… What have you been doing?" she asked, intrigued by his dusty jeans and tee.

He picked up her backpack. "I've been down in the storage space," he said by way of explanation and then grabbed her hand. "Come down to the dungeon."

Jack wasn't kidding. As the heavy door to the basement shut behind them with a loud clanging thud, Samantha pulled a face. "God, how can you bear the heat?" She then wrinkled her nose, "And the stuffiness."

"Down here on the left," and Jack unlocked one of the several closed doors, pushing it inwards. "This is mine."

Faced by a mountain of boxes illuminated under an old neon light, Samantha hoped he wasn't planning on looking through all of them, although he looked as though he'd been giving it a good attempt. He had gone around the door into the corner and was already busy making a makeshift seat for her out of several solid boxes that contained Maria's law books -sent from her Chicago office- but he didn't feel the need to inform her of that.

He dusted his hands after placing the last box against the wall. "There you go," and then helped her up.

Happily perched she looked around again. "And why are you here?" Her picnic idea appeared to be disappearing as fast as the sun would be eventually setting outside.

"Fish tank –I promised Kate weeks back I'd find it. It's important to her."

"Of course," was all Samantha could come up with, looking around as he pulled a penknife out of his back pocket and turned back to the boxes. She was thankful he'd left the door half open, not that there appeared to be much air coming through. It was like an oven.

Not what she was expecting for her Friday evening, so she crossed her legs, making herself a little more comfortable on the boxes and watched him at work.

After several minutes, the heat was starting to get to her and the stale air was cloying -she hoped she wasn't becoming suddenly claustrophobic and that they wouldn't be here for much longer. Jack was now squatting, peering into another box he'd sliced open, with his t-shirt ridden up just enough to show an inch of his lower back.

She stared at the band of moist skin.

He closed the box and swore as he pushed it to one side. Standing, he surveyed the pile as his hand rubbed his back. "I know it's here, but which one, damn it!" He swiped a hand across his chest in damp frustration before shoving it through his hair.

Samantha shifted position on the boxes, uncrossing her legs to stop them sticking together and spreading them a bit, watching while Jack pulled the bottom of his tee up to wipe his face, this time exposing his stomach.

"I thought I'd written what was in each and every box before the movers took them all away…" He turned to her, hands now on hips. "Sorry Sam, I thought I'd find it quicker than this."

"'S okay," she murmured, watching him turn away and bend over to move a box he'd already checked. The jeans made his butt look good from her viewpoint and his arm muscles tensed as he lifted the box up onto another.

_Dear God_…

She could feel her hair sticking to the back of her neck and she hitched her hem up and used it to fan herself a bit, although it didn't succeed in cooling her one bit.

Then she pulled it up a bit further so it was mid-thigh. She was finding her breathing was getting a bit heavier, and it had nothing to do with the air and everything to do with the sight of a hot, sweaty, working Jack.

She could almost physically see the pheromones he was saturating her with, floating about in the still air as he continued, unknowing at his effect on her.

Samantha really couldn't stand it any longer.

"Hey."

He was using his knife to slice open another carton top. "How could I lose a fish tank for Christ's sake? It's not like it's a small bowl or anything."

"Jack…"

"Mmm?" He glanced over at her.

And did a double take.

Samantha ran her hands along her thighs, parting her legs further and dragging the dress hem up even further. "Over here…"

He was rooted to the spot, but rallied enough to point to a space between them. "Here… now?" he rasped.

She wasn't in the mood for playing games. "Now."

Far from unwilling, Jack made it over to Samantha in two steps, shoving the knife in his back pocket and pushing two boxes of books aside with his foot.

Throwing her arms around him, she pulled him against her and wasted no time in crushing her lips against his. Standing between her legs, he moved his hands quickly up the outside of her thighs, then hooked a thumb under the thin strap of her thong at her hip. Deciding to slow down, he leisurely moved his hand around her leg until his thumb reached her crotch under the flimsy fabric.

Catching his breath when he felt how wet she was, he buried his face in her neck, half sighing, half laughing. "Jeee-sus, Sam…" he breathed, almost in admiration, surprised that her panties weren't soaked through. "Of all the places for this…"

"We could stop-" she began half heartedly, but was silenced by Jack's mouth finding hers again, his tongue making speech impossible and his fingers making any other stupid ideas vanish.

She moaned in protest as he pulled his mouth away, turning his attention to her thong. He half thought to cut the thin straps with his penknife, but he also knew the inverse law -the less material used, the more expensive it was. So he settled for tugging and Samantha helped by squirming. Once the panties were taken care of, Jack threw them in the direction of the backpack and hitched her dress up as far as he could, while zeroing in on Samantha's hungry lips again, his fingers again seeking her out.

But her moaning implied that his teasing fingers weren't enough, so Jack leaned in on her, gently pushing her body back while bringing her pelvis more forward. "That's going to be an interesting angle," Samantha murmured.

Which wasn't what Jack had in mind at all. "Soon," he said huskily and to Samantha's sheer delight went down on his knees -ignoring the pain he'd no doubt have later- and slid his hands under her ass. Gasping and stretching her legs wider to allow his mouth and tongue full access, it was all Samantha could do to stop from crying out loudly as his fingers dug into her flesh, his tongue lapping her clit and, then pushing inside her, tasting her salty sweetness, his saliva adding to her own juices.

They both could have stayed there blissfully for quite some time. Samantha's hands were running through his hair, gently pushing his head against her; his enjoyment at her reactions and the novelty of not doing it in bed was adding to their thrill. His tongue was firm yet gentle, and as insistent as the waves of ecstasy she was feeling.

It was so damn _good_...

"Oh God, Jack," she said, breathlessly, "you'd better come up for air..." It was the least she could do.

Not particularly wanting to finish, he indulged her further and took his time, treating her to long lingering strokes of his tongue, before finishing off with a few well-placed kisses, leaving her on the brink, quite happily so. Finally getting up to stand, Jack then put his hands on either side of Samantha against the wall, leaning over her as he gave her a long kiss, letting her taste herself as her hands were busy undoing his belt. "We really need to do something about this-" she whispered against his mouth, blindly fumbling with it all. Jack –his face nuzzling hers- had no problems with letting her take care of him while he was thinking of the best, most comfortable position they could manage in the cement surroundings.

She had succeeded in unzipping him and pulled his jeans down a bit, her hand just reaching inside -as eager for his release as he was- when they heard the unmistakeable sound of the basement door slamming shut. Then there was the racket of some excited children and a parental voice telling them to calm down, unbelievably all coming along towards their door.

They froze, looking at each other as running footsteps slowed down. Samantha hesitantly peeked over Jack's shoulder. The storage space door was partially open and they were behind it –still, a young, enquiring eye at the crack would no doubt see them quite clearly -Samantha's bare legs around Jack's hips, his jeans in the process of being pulled down.

Samantha looked back at Jack, and found herself focussing on a bead of sweat running down his temple. He found he was holding his breath as he turned his head towards the door, just as a voice going past yelled out for the kids to move it or else. He breathed again as he looked back at Samantha's relieved face.

"Upstairs, I think," he whispered.

Removing her hands from inside his jeans, Samantha reached up to wipe away the drop of sweat she'd been concentrating on, and she found she was one hundred percent fine with his idea.

Xx—

Jack gradually woke. He didn't know what the time was and he didn't want to find out. It was obviously morning, and that was good enough for him. Lying face down, he lifted his head from his pillow and looked blearily over to Samantha. All he could see was a riot of blonde hair; he couldn't even tell if she was facing him or not, but like him she was on her stomach. He dropped his head back down, a small sigh escaping his lips, but in a satisfied way. He decided to stay there for a while longer, listening to Samantha's deep breathing and the Saturday sounds of the city.

He was feeling warm and soporific, but awake enough to idly wonder if Samantha would consent to some nice, lazy weekend sex –before or after breakfast, it wouldn't matter. Then he wondered what she might like to eat –he was sure he could rustle up some pancakes and fresh fruit for her. But he was hoping she'd prefer something pre-breakfast.

If she didn't want sex, then that was okay too. It could wait. It wasn't like they'd done nothing the previous evening.

However, it was because of that, that Jack found he was definitely in the mood for more.

His mind wandered over to the living room, where he knew there were a couple of glasses and empty bottles of red wine, along with the remains of their after-sex picnic and their scattered clothes.

_Coming up from the basement, he put the backpack down, closing then chaining the apartment door. Samantha, initially pausing with indecision, then headed into the living room. Following, he found himself again hungry with anticipation for her as she shot him a certain look over her shoulder, obviously wanting to continue where they had left off. Stopping by the sofa, she then pulled her hair up, waiting for him to unzip her dress. Jack made short work of it and watched as she stepped out of the dress, wearing nothing but her heels and bra._

_It became even better when she got onto the sofa - bending over the arm, facing away from him. He wasted no time pulling off his t-shirt and unzipping his fly, kicking his jeans and boxers off in his rush to curl himself against her back and ass. His damp body stuck against hers as he pushed aside her hair again and buried his face in her neck, heavily kissing and licking her salty skin_.

_So many flavors to her..._

He shifted his hips on the bed as he remembered.

_Unhooking her strapless bra and flinging it away from them; now he could touch her breasts more freely from behind. Jack slid his hands between them and the sofa arm, finding Samantha's nipples delightfully hard against his palms, roughly squeezing them. Her hand slipped behind her to run down his hip and trailed her fingernails down his thigh. She then repeated the journey upwards, enjoying the groan he made against her. She didn't seem bothered about him pressing down against her, and had been busy moving her hips and ass against him, sounds of obvious pleasure escaping from her lips as she felt his hardness against her body in return. _

_"So much for being quiet," Samantha said, by way of apology before turning her head to find his mouth and bite down on his lower lip._

_"Then this will have be our last noisy time," he managed to say, pulling her primed and ready body further against him, having no problems maneuvering her pliant body for better access, easing himself gently inside with a few gentle lunges._

_But he knew what she really wanted as much he did in the present circumstances, so then he hammered himself forcefully into her._

_It had been wonderfully loud, raw, rough and sweaty, and totally left them wanting each other more. _

Undeniably in the mood now, Jack rolled onto his side to release some of his ache.

And he was just reaching over to gently lay a waking hand on Samantha's back, when he heard something.

He stopped –the sound was definitely coming from the front of the apartment. He cocked his head, wondering what it might be and rapidly put two and two together.

_Oh shit, no, no, no_…

He jumped up, grabbed some boxers and a t-shirt from the floor and threw them on. Rushing out of the bedroom, he knew exactly what it was.

The chain was stopping the front door from opening, but it was open far enough for two small hands to be pushed through and two voices: "Daaaa-ddyyyy."

He wasted no time undoing the chain and practically fell backwards as the girls tumbled in on him, a mass of hugs and kisses.

"Hey!" he said, in honest surprise and delight. "You're here!"

"Daddy -look at this!" Kate waved a sheet of paper with a drawing on it at him.

"Check these out!" Hanna was pointing at her feet, clad in what Jack took to be new soccer boots, a soccer ball under her arm.

Looking over them he saw Mickey and Joyce at the door.

"Not too much of a shock is it?" asked Joyce, coming inside. Like she would care, but at the moment Jack was still recovering from astonishment.

"No… no! I was just expecting you all tomorrow morning –that's all." The girls were jumping up and down, still both trying to get Jack's attention. "Okay, okay! Show me your things."

"Can I dump this stuff now?" asked a rather harassed sounding Mickey. "It's a long way up those damn stairs…" he mumbled, dragging in some new luggage Jack had never seen before.

Admiring the cleats on Hanna's boots as she held her foot up and hoping she wouldn't wear them on the wooden floors, Jack just managed amongst the excited squealing: "How come-"

"We're so early?" cut in Joyce. "Mick's got some business that's come up in the city and well…"

"There's something else we have to do," said Mickey, as if in explanation. "I tell you, these bags are _heavy_-"

Jack pointed in the direction of the girls' bedroom. "I got you some welcome home presents. They're on your bed."

"Yay!" they chorused and ran off, leaving Jack with his semi in-laws.

Xx--

Samantha had been woken by Jack's bounding out of bed and was now near the bedroom door, pulling on her robe, as the girls ran to their room. Transfixed like a deer in the headlights, she stayed hidden by the doorway, wondering what to do next -and trying to listen.

She was sure everything would be all right because Jack said it would be.

Right?

Xx--

"Before you ask, they've been thoroughly spoiled –as is our grandparental right," Joyce said in a tone that brooked no argument. Jack wasn't going to go there, but he couldn't decide if he preferred her crying on the phone to him or her usual demeanor.

"So, _where_ can I dump these?" Mickey asked, starting to tire of holding the bags. "I don't think I'd make it as far as their room, frankly."

"Oh, in there," Joyce said, waving him into the living room before turning back to Jack. "We wanted to ask if we could have them for awhile again next summer," she asked Jack in her most kind-hearted manner, her face no doubt straining with the effort of being nice to him for the favor.

He'd barely registered the request before he turned to see Mickey shuffling in to the living room. He could hear the girls squealing in their room and the sounds of what could be them bouncing on their beds.

Mickey was now standing in the living room doorway looking around as he dropped the bags with a thump.

"Is that okay, Jack?" Joyce wanted an answer.

He turned his attention back to Joyce. "Next year, summer holidays -yes, that's fine… Ah, Mickey –are there any more bags I can help you with?" Jack ventured, but it was not enough of a diversion that Jack suddenly remembered he needed.

Mickey turned to look at him.

_Oh crap…_

His former father-in-law's face said it all. "What's been going on here…?" Mickey demanded in a very low, dangerous voice.

"What's up?" Joyce went over to her husband.

Jack could have begun protesting but he knew it was useless –Maria's parents were intelligent, but tempered with their own brand of belligerence. He slowly went over to shut the front door before joining them.

He knew there were bottles, glasses and food on the coffee table. He knew that Samantha's dress had been thoughtfully picked up and half-heartedly laid on the armchair before they'd eventually headed to the bathroom. Her heels were on either end of the sofa –where they'd ended up after they'd dug too much into Jack's thighs and he'd practically wrenched them off her. He didn't need to see that her flung bra was on the other side of the room in plain view. Her panties were dangling out of the backpack, while his jeans and boxers had been roughly shoved further away from where they'd initially had been on the floor –they'd been in the way when Jack and Samantha had left the sofa for a firmer surface.

It wasn't looking good, Jack conceded.

It was looking very, very bad.

And he didn't know how the hell he was going to get out of this one.

Joyce took a step into the room, taking it all in. "What on earth…?" She turned back to Jack, an indescribable look on her face. "Have… have you had a… a hooker in here?"

It would have been a funny question at another time, but it was this time at present. Jack knew she was deadly serious. "No, Joyce –definitely not, let me explain-"

Mickey was still looking around. "Then what the hell have you been doing?" He turned back to Jack. "Look at you! Did you know that your t-shirt is back to front? Did we interrupt you or something? And looking at this mess it's obvious that you're some kind of amoral-"

"Mickey…" Jack warned him, his hands clenched at his sides.

Stepping up to the taller man, the typically taciturn Mickey jabbed a finger at him, just short of Jack's chest. "No, you listen to me, you son of a bitch… this was also my daughter's house, her _home_ and she's barely-" he swallowed heavily, "barely dead in her grave and you get some _slut_ in here-"

"No, I damn well am _not_!" said an appalled voice behind Jack.

Whipping around, Jack saw Samantha standing a few feet away. Mickey and Joyce looked around Jack, staring at the latest development.

"So we did interrupt something," Joyce's voice was edged with disbelief.

"Sam, perhaps it would be best if you went back to the bedroom," Jack said quietly.

Arms folded, she stood defiantly. "No Jack, he hasn't any right to say that about me."

Jack's voice was heavy with resignation. "I know, but Sam…"

Joyce had been looking at Samantha with an inquisitive stare, now she was whispering to Mickey.

His face went redder. "You're kidding!" he cried out.

Joyce shook her head. "I'm sure."

"What now, Joyce?" demanded Jack.

"I remember Maria talking to me at length about a certain 'Sam' from your office. This is her, isn't it?" Joyce asked icily, watching as Samantha passed by her to pick up her dress and bra.

For her part Samantha decided this was not a good time to maintain eye contact. She was suddenly reminded all too clearly of Maria in the break room during the deposition.

Jack hadn't known that Maria had confided in her mother –but it made sense. He said nothing.

Taking Jack's silence for affirmation, Mickey shook his head incredulously. "Couldn't wait for my daughter to die before moving in on her, eh Jack? Finishing what you began years back? Jesus, you really are an asshole –what a great husband you were."

"You seem to have forgotten that we were divorced some time before she died, Mickey. You daughter did quite nicely out of that."

"And apparently you are doing quite nicely of it now," retorted Mickey, jerking his thumb over his shoulder in Samantha's direction.

Jack glowered at Mickey, patience thoroughly thinned, knowing they could stay like this all day -stinging each other. He should know –his final months of marriage seemed to have been full of it and now he knew it must have been genetic on Maria's side. But he was totally on the back foot here, in his own home.

Matters could get worse.

They did.

"Dad, what's going on?" Hanna and Kate had emerged –of course.

Jack realised he hadn't been hearing their background noise for a few minutes –it must have been after Samantha had appeared in the living room. He was suddenly worried about how much they had heard. "Girls, would you go back to your room please?"

Hanna pointed at Sam. "What's she doing here?"

Kate had spotted something else. "Where are all Mommy's pictures?"

Samantha sat down in an armchair her bra and dress bundled up on her lap, hoping to just disappear. This could have gone better, perhaps she should have stayed in the bedroom, but she'd crept out as the voices had gotten louder until she'd had enough.

This was turning into some slice of dramatic, living hell.

Jack knelt down beside Kate. "I just put the pictures away for awhile," they'd been on his list of things to do later today actually, "don't worry, I'll get them out again-"

"I asked you -what's she doing here?" Hanna's voice was getting louder. She wasn't stupid and could also put two and two together –which she certainly did. "You've been having sex with her, haven't you, Dad?" It was an accusation, not a question. "In Mom's bedroom."

Now holding Hanna's hand for comfort, Kate's head swivelled up to look at her sister's face.

Jack was reeling by Hanna's audacity –just what the hell were young teenagers learning these days? No, correct that –_his_ young teenager. But then in his line of work he should have known better. "Honey, you know Mommy and I divorced some time back-" he began, trying to explain.

"No! It's not right! Mom's been gone a few months and _she's_ here!"

Samantha covered her eyes. She should leave but it still meant she had to change, and her clothes were in the backpack –there was only a lonely pair of panties and a sensible bra in her drawer in the bedroom. Worse than that -it meant getting up and going past the family. She pulled the front of her robe more tightly around her, willing herself to disappear.

Jack was going to have to fight for them both on his own. Any opinion she'd have would be ignored, anyway.

"Hanna, sweetie, you don't understand-"

"I don't want her here," Hanna announced coldly. Being babysat by Samantha was one thing, it seemed -having the babysitter sleeping with your father was something else.

"Look, we can talk about it-"

"No, we can't and we won't -you're not seeing her anymore!" Hanna yelled, rounding again on Jack.

"I'm sure you don't mean that."

"You bet I do -and Kate too." Hanna looked at Kate, who nodded. It wasn't a vague agreement for going along to keep Hanna happy –to Jack's growing dismay it was as determined as her down-turned mouth.

Jack couldn't believe it. Mollifying hadn't worked so now he went for the other option. "Now, don't start acting stupid-"

Samantha tried to shrink further into the seat cushions. She could see that Jack –who could come down so hard on suspects and criminals- was not handling the two girls well at all. Not that he'd had all that much training in this current situation. She knew she hadn't, even with an older sister.

"Because if you don't…" Kate's small, quavering voice began. "Then Grandma and Grandpa can look after us. We'll go and live with them."

Looking up at that, Samantha could see Kate's stern face, Hanna's resolute one, but not Jack's. She could see Mickey and Joyce exchange looks –they'd clearly spoken about this subject before, perhaps in jest, perhaps not.

Jack was still as a statue. "What?" he whispered.

Kate's chin was firm. "We don't want you seeing Sam."

Nodding, Hanna kept piling it on, knowing in her young way, she had Jack cornered. "Only at work. No sneaking around."

_How much did they know? _

_How much had Maria told them? _

_Surely not…_

"I see," mumbled Jack, getting up to sit on the arm of the sofa, shocked at the ramifications of what his daughters had said. It hadn't been that long ago when he'd opened the front door –so much had changed in such a short amount of time.

_They had to be kidding._

_Weren't they?_

_They're only children…_

There was a difficult silence in the room.

Joyce cleared her throat. "Uh, Hanna why don't you tell your dad what else we came back to do -the surprise, remember?"

A smile brightened Hanna's face. "We're all going to see _Wicked_ tonight! Mom had promised to take us."

Unnerved at Hanna's sudden change, Jack could only watch.

"Grandma and Grandpa got tickets for tonight as a surprise," added Kate.

"And that's including you, Jack," Joyce said, softly.

He couldn't look at Hanna anymore and he couldn't look at Sam either, he just couldn't. "No, that's…fine," Jack said, trying not to sound as wretched as he felt.

_This couldn't be the way it goes._

Mickey suddenly clapped and rubbed his hands together. "I'm hungry –how about if we go out for breakfast! What do you think, girls?"

"Yay!" Kate said excitedly.

"Let's go the diner around the corner," Hanna suggested. "I'm taking my soccer ball!"

"You're coming too, Daddy," Kate stated.

Jack looked up from his unfocussed stare at the floor. "What? Yes, okay, give me a few minutes…"

Joyce glanced over at Samantha before speaking to Jack. "We'll be waiting for you."

Samantha knew that was meant as the singular, not the plural; as if she was expecting an invitation to join them.

The girls and their grandparents went out, closing the door behind them and Samantha wasted no time in getting up.

"I'd better get going," she said, heading off to the bedroom with her bundle, not really knowing what to say.

Scarcely aware of what he was doing, Jack picked up the backpack and his jeans before following her.

Samantha thanked him as he gave her the pack and she pulled out the jeans and t-shirt that were in there, then she took her dress and bra and stuffed them in. Changing while Jack found a fresh shirt to go with his jeans, she surreptitiously watched him.

Never had buttoning up a shirt taken so much of his concentration.

Finally, when they were both ready, Jack picked up her bag and gently took her hand -like he had as they'd left the basement the previous night, but now in entirely different circumstances. "Come on, I'll walk you to the corner," he said, managing a smile.

Samantha bravely smiled back. She couldn't expect him to use up any more time, especially with the girls and in-laws waiting. They had a quick detour to the living room on the way out to retrieve Samantha's shoes, which she then slipped on.

"I think that's all my clothes, there's nothing left in my drawer –except the robe," Samantha said. "You can look after that for me."

"Uh-huh," was all that Jack replied.

He was somber as they left the apartment and made their way to the sidewalk, and Samantha mirrored him, not being much in the mood for chatting either as they walked along the street.

Looking around and up at the sky, Samantha could tell it was going to be yet another scorching hot day -a good day to spend indoors or somewhere with a cooling breeze and shade. She suddenly remembered their time in the Hamptons –amazed it was only a short while ago and what a perfect time it had been.

Stopping as they came to the corner, Jack put the backpack down, finally garnering the courage to speak as he gestured down the road. "Okay, I have to go this way… Look," he said, feeling terrible, "I'm sorry about tonight."

"No, it's okay. I'm sure Jeremy could fit us in soon when we can make it."

"Ah, yeah…sure," Jack said, forcing false hope into his voice. "Of course." _Whenever that may be._

"And I'll see you –not this evening obviously, but how about tomorrow night? Perhaps Stevie could baby sit. I'm sure she'd like to see the girls."

Jack was quiet.

"Okay?"

Still quiet.

Her forehead furrowed -his reticence was starting to get to her. "We will still be seeing each other –right?"

_Oh fuck, he's avoiding looking at me._

He could always make his face a cipher, but she knew how to read his eyes.

Everything was always there.

"We'll still be at work together-" he said, blindly focussing on a road sign across the street.

"Just…at work?" The words felt hollow as she said them.

_Surely, he can't mean what I think he is…_

"For the moment, for a while… perhaps some time." He glanced at her face to find she was staring intensely at him. "I have to think of my girls…" he murmured before finding another sign to look at.

Samantha's mouth was dry and was in no mood to choose her words. "Let me get this straight…You're telling me that you're taking that 'threat' seriously? That you're going to let your two children dictate how you live your life –is that it?" she asked, heart and voice breaking with every word, hardly reconciling what she herself was saying. He didn't turn his head towards her. "Jack… how can you shove me aside –again- like this?"

Jack's eyes flicked momentarily to meet hers once more and Samantha could see the searing inner pain in them -before he inevitably looked at his feet.

"You can't do this to me, to us –all over again," she whispered, disbelievingly.

"Sam, you know I love you… but it's different now. I have no choice-"

"The hell you don't."

"I just don't want to take any chances -I can't risk losing them again. Give it time; I'm sure they'll come around."

"When, Jack? Am I supposed to sit at home and wait for them to give you permission?"

"Being a parent –it affects how things are… Give me time," he repeated quietly.

She rubbed her hands over her face, as if wanting to wake up from a dream –or nightmare. "We've waited so long and it was working so well between us… You can't possibly be willing to be part of this…" she trailed off. She could feel his old duality was back, and it was tearing him apart once more. "It's not good enough…"

Back when he was separated, the girls still had Maria –he'd said that in the office to her and Vivian that time. And now there was just him. It was a strong hand of theirs in play and an impossible one to beat. All of a sudden it made Samantha feel she had no cards to stack against them, except for one.

Her love for him.

And she didn't know if she could even win with that right now.

"It's just not good enough," she repeated as she picked up her bag. She was gritting her jaw together as she looked at him -anything to stop herself from crying on the sidewalk in the morning sun.

Jack reached out and brushed his fingers against her cheeks. "One day…" he whispered, drawing his face to hers, "before long… I swear it," and he kissed her.

She responded hungrily at first but then relented as she sensed he wasn't kissing her that way.

There was no mistaking: it was a chaste 'goodbye' kiss.

Unfortunately, she was no stranger to it from him.

Desperate to cry, she found she couldn't even manage that.

"I'll see you Monday," he said softly, every syllable betraying him, a ghost of a smile on his lips -as some sort of hopeless, useless reassurance for her.

Saying nothing, feeling everything, she watched him turn and walk down the street.

Away from her.

She couldn't believe it.

Xx—

Jack sat in the booth beside his happy, chattering daughters, his gladness in seeing them back home fighting past his internal despair. Mickey and Joyce were restrained, perhaps actually sensing what Jack had just gone through, and perhaps realising it had all gone too far.

That would be a first.

As the food arrived –pancakes, of all things- Jack forced his mind away from Samantha and what he'd just done to her to play happy families, like that whole scene at the apartment hadn't happened

The food wasn't going to fill the gaping feeling inside him.

Letting the girls talk about their vacation, Jack tried forcing himself to eat, but found he had no appetite as he moved bits of food around his plate.

Also hurting him were the small, triumphant looks Hanna kept shooting at him.

_God, she's just like her mother_.

And of course it was the usually observant Kate that finally noticed it.

"Dad, where's your ring?" she asked, her small face confused as she looked at his hand.

Jack inadvertently looked down at his finger.

_It's official. You can add this to the list of the worst days of my life._

Xx—

To be continued


	22. Waiting

**A/N**: This is very weird for me, posting something inspired by a tv show that has recently been cancelled (unfairly and unceremoniously), but as the fans and readers are aware, that doesn't mean we have to take that sucky finale as given, especially over that J/S ending. We've already had some better versions written so kudos there. For this story, it's unfortunate that I'm in the middle of an angst segment but BNF has to play out and there are still several chapters to go. I'm a believer in happy endings as much as the next fan.

My many thanks to **Mariel **for her wonderful betaing and for seeing things I just couldn't after looking at this a thousand times.

**Disclaimer**: I don't own WAT or the characters, and frankly the way the show was treated, CBS didn't deserve them either.

**Rating**: I'll do an M rating, just for one small scene.

* * *

**Chapter 20**

**Waiting**

Xx--

What can you say?

Nothing –to her.

It's for the best.

It'll work out.

She knows it's only a matter of time.

Hopefully.

What can you do?

Just pretend everything is normal.

Because it wasn't all that bad, really.

It had been worse –other times.

Try not to let Samantha's expression pierce you through the heart every time you look at her.

No.

It _was_ awful.

Best not to look at Samantha at all, though that would be too noticeable by the team. Last time (and it was only a few short weeks ago) they'd avoided each other's gaze, now it seemed it was only him doing that this time.

_Here we go -again. _

_His fault, of course -again._

_He felt like shit -again._

He'd turned off his personal cell phone some time back. He wasn't going to try to call her when the girls might interrupt. He had no idea what he would have said if he did.

Best not to try.

He doubted Samantha had been trying to contact him, and he wouldn't blame her if that were true.

But the time would pass and then they could be together. Giving the girls or in-laws ammo to be used against him was the last thing on Jack's mind and the girls' seriousness about it all was surprisingly painful. It was all so damn complex. He'd cheated on Maria and the girls with Samantha before. Now trying to see Samantha against his daughters' express wishes would be like cheating again.

Seeing or being with Samantha would just feel wrong.

Faking his way through the rest of the weekend hadn't been needed, keeping up a brave face hadn't been all that hard either -even though Jack had known he wasn't at his best with his daughters or quite as cheery as he could have been. He'd succeeded concealing it, so the rest of the weekend had passed fairly amiably except for one instant. If the girls had felt they'd won this particular battle about Samantha, they had, in a sense.

....

_After __breakfast at the diner, the in-laws helped bring up more of the girls' things, and then left; they would return later for the show. The apartment felt thankfully less crowded and Jack was putting the last of the bags in the girls' room when he remembered something._

"_Kate, didn't you have some bugs you wanted the fish tank for?" he asked. "Because I hate to say I haven't found it -yet."_

_S__hrugging, Kate pulled out a new souvenir t-shirt out of a large pile. "Doesn't matter, I'm tired of bugs, so I let them all go when we left the lake."_

_Having no comeback to that, Jack stared at her a moment. All in all, it hadn't been a total waste of time in the basement but he felt a bit empty about the whole thing now. His knee had indeed been sore from kneeling on the hard floor, as a bittersweet reminder of his time there with Samantha. "Uh, okay. I just wished you'd emailed me or something…" and leaving them to it, he went back to the living room to tidy up the mess and return the missing the photos to their original positions. Maria's big brown eyes glared at him accusingly with each one he put back._

_Then he phoned Jeremy Everard to cancel the dinner reservation. Jeremy said it wasn__'t a problem and was happy to help out any time. Jack wondered if there was a time limit to the invite while they made small talk –after a bit more recovery, Gary was going to go see his family in England for awhile and then travel around France. Jeremy would be running the restaurant, as a trial of surviving on his own, and he felt optimistic about the challenge. Jack found it was nice to hear things getting back on track for the twins –at least some people were happy._

_Next he picked over the bathroom, finding and tidying away the things Samantha had used. The robe he had given her was gently folded up and placed in what he would always think of as her drawer._

_He then found his wedding ring and shoved it back on. He'd wear it at home but he'd be damned if he was going to wear it at work in front of Samantha._

_That evening, the girls sat between their grandparents and Jack at _Wicked._ Jack was impressed at the good seats Mickey had managed. The grandparents then loaded the girls up with various items of merchandise and Jack was glad it wasn't his wallet being drained. And then the in-laws finally left –a very late goodbye that was totally overdue. The girls were extremely sad to see them go; Jack was extremely relieved._

_On Sunday t__here was the instant; a major problem when Jack found Hanna on the computer late in the afternoon, after they'd visited Maria's grave. She was setting up a profile on a popular networking site._

"_What are you doing?" he demanded, standing over Hanna and scanning the personal things she'd typed so far._

"_I promised some of my friends from the lake I'd do one-"_

"_Not without my permission," Jack stated firmly. He knew what could happen to young girls using the net, they'd put their profile up -real or imagined, he never knew which was worse- and then there would be photos and then chatrooms, promises to meet…_

_Hanna frowned at him. "Why not? They said they all have pages."_

_Jack knew she had some common sense and wondered if she was playing dumb. "Close it down now and go and play with Kate."_

"_But-"_

"_Do it _now_."_

_Jack waited until she and her pout had left, then he got into his PC security and put in a password so neither Hanna or Kate could start the PC without it –or him. On Monday he would ask the technicians at work for a special security program. Stevie had been unable to visit but he'd tell her in the morning what was going on when she'd come to look after the girls. _

_...._

And now here it was, the dreaded Monday at the office.

There had already been a shouting match with his daughters over the computer before he left, and work should have been a respite, not another minefield concerning Samantha.

Staring down at the bullpen table, Jack spoke to the team about some protocols during their morning meeting, moving around sheets of paper in a listless fashion as he sat. His wedding ring was on a chain around his neck, so he could easily have it to take on or off; shoved in his pocket or even on his key chain was a not good idea and this was the compromise. He could feel it against his skin, alien-like.

"Are you okay, Jack?" Vivian interjected. Typical of her to notice –she could be as bad as Kate.

Jack's head came up at that, forcing a smile that didn't quite meet his eyes. "Yes... I'm fine, thanks. Just a bad night's sleep, that's all."

"I suppose with the girls back home, your peace and quiet have gone out the window."

Jack nodded noncommittally, all the while knowing Samantha's eyes were fixed upon him. "Something like that."

He was wondering where on the spectrum between pissed off and disappointed Samantha would be. He didn't really want to hazard a guess.

And there was nothing he could do about it.

She'd calm down soon enough.

Xx—

Samantha had been angry as hell. She'd been cycling through various emotional stages all weekend and now after a particularly long time in the crying stage, she was feeling drained before the week had even begun. She felt like she hadn't slept for two nights although she might have -she wasn't quite sure, but she knew she'd emotionally exhausted herself. Her damp pillow had been testament to that. She didn't even have a key to his apartment to throw back at him, but then she hadn't given him one either -their after-work arrangements hadn't needed them.

All weekend long she'd stared at her cell phone, willing it to ring and it had proved a futile effort; the phone had remained stubbornly silent. She could have phoned him herself or sent a text but had decided against it.

_He_ could phone _her_.

The walls of her apartment had felt like a cage of her own making, but she was feeling at a loss and quite useless, and found grumpingaround a better option. On Sunday morning she'd popped her contraceptive pill, noting that her period was due in two days. No surprise there this time as she'd been keeping an eye on the countdown. She was, however, amazed at how far Jack and she had come in the last month, and then so far apart again.

28 days –just like that.

What a time to be over-wrought and feeling crappy anyway; even chocolate wasn't helping.

Samantha didn't know what to do. At work, she could make snap decisions, but whenever it came to her private life she often just flailed uselessly.

_Give it time; I'm sure they'll come around._

Those words of his came back to her time and time again.

That was easy for him to say.

And she knew she was already sick of waiting.

This was quite ridiculous.

An absurd situation and she hated it.

Watching as Jack finished up, she half-listened as he mentioned he needed to see the technicians before he left to go there. It was amazing the way he was acting towards her; no look, no gesture –just avoiding her eyes, looking past her. She couldn't believe that throughout the entire meeting he was acting as if nothing had happened.

_Damn him -he's good at doing that._

Looks like she was heading back to her anger mode.

Xx—

Danny found Vivian in the break room. "What's got into them?" he asked, rummaging around in his pocket for vending machine change.

Vivian was stirring her coffee and knew exactly who he meant. "Not sure, to tell the truth. Maybe Sam had to stay away when the girls came back and she didn't like it. She's giving him some intense looks out there."

"Perhaps they're just pretending to be upset with each other –they might think we know something and they're putting up a smoke screen to get us off the scent," Danny replied, getting a couple of chocolate bars -he waved one at Viv.

She shook her head, declining. "It wouldn't be the first time something like that's happened around here."

Danny managed a snigger. "Yeah, best to ignore it all, then."

Nodding this time as she took a sip from her mug, Vivian wanted to make a point. "The closer people get the more they want to pretend they aren't –that kind of thing. They needn't bother for our benefit and I'm sure they're just fine," she added, not knowing how far she was away from the truth.

"Then they're doing a good job of it." He paused, then asked, "We're on for tonight?"

"If we're free. You're organising to get Martin to the meeting?"

"Kicking and screaming if need be."

"I hope it doesn't quite come to that -do you think he'll suspect anything?" Vivian asked as they started to walk out of the break room together.

"I am the ninja master of secrecy," Danny smiled, and Vivian smiled back, knowing that he believed he truly was.

Xx--

Jack hadn't had much of a chance to catch up with Stevie, although she'd been there early Monday after the fight to take care of the girls. As she'd arrived after the fight, he'd drawn her aside to tell her about the PC situation, had asked about Frank and then he was off out the door. Two days later he managed to speak to her properly when he got home late.

As much as he wanted to go on some kind of offensive, he had to keep Stevie sweet, since he was relying on her quite a lot during the rest of the girls' vacation.

"So Frank is fine?" he asked as they sat in the living room, he with a glass of wine, she with a nearly empty packet of Doritos.

Stevie nodded. "Yeah, I plug him in, they plug him in and that's that for a few hours. We don't even talk much anymore, but that's okay, he's happy in his world. I just read a book or whatever," she said and then popped a few chip shards into her mouth. "The girls were good with him today as long as they're occupied while we're there."

"He's still enjoying the music?"

"Mm, but I'm way over jazz thing now -there's too much other stuff I'm missing out on. That reminds me, I've left your vinyl alone but I've looked through your CDs properly and I've grabbed a few, Hanna's got the list."

Jack raised an eyebrow as he took a sip of wine. "Thanks for telling me."

"I'll treat them well, don't worry."

"You made peace with your parents about the progressive rock thing?"

Stevie shook the packet in a vain attempt to get the larger pieces on top of the broken bits. "We reached a compromise with early David Bowie and Pink Floyd."

Jack looked at his glass a moment in thought. "I can appreciate that but I can't figure out the logic… I suppose the girls have told you about-"

Finally putting the crackly packet down, Stevie was wide-eyed. "Oh yes, _believe_ me. Sounds like it was quite a scene, very dramatic. Sorry I wasn't there for all the threats," she said, a little too gleefully for Jack's liking, but he carried on:

"I thought... I thought you said they'd be all right with Sam and me."

Open mouthed in surprise, Stevie shook her head. "I did no such thing! You're the one that screwed it up."

"We did talk about this –sort of..."

"Like my advice is good? Like _I'm_ an expert? Hey, don't go blaming me in any of this. I wouldn't have called that the best timing for them to find out, and the grandparents too. I think you have a death wish."

"I had a better idea of how it should have gone."

Stevie giggled and turned her attention to the chips again. "I'll say, anything but _that_."

Her continued amusement at the situation was irking Jack. "Okay, okay... Did you know the girls were coming back early?"

Stevie shook her head. "Uh-uh, they had mentioned they had a surprise for you which I think was the show –which wasn't half as interesting as what did happen, I think."

"What were their emails to you about -if you don't mind me asking," added Jack, realising this was not a questioning at work.

"Girly stuff, their latest pop star crushes. Hanna seems to like soccer players and Kate likes that new _High School Musical _thing and now of course _Wicked,_ which is an interesting –and quite disturbing- combination..."

"I thought they liked Hilary Duff or someone like that."

Practically guffawing at him, Stevie vigorously shook her head this time. "No way! Not for a _long_ time, you really have no idea-" but the expression on his face stopped her and she decided to eat to recover some composure.

"Anything else?" Jack prompted, thinking that the rest of the bottle was looking pretty good right now.

"Okay -they did write to me about Maria, like how much they missed her. Their grandparents must have talked about her 24/7. I think the whole vacation must have been a nostalgia trip."

"I bet."

"You can't blame the oldies though; the girls are all they've got and they do love them. It hasn't been long for any of them since Maria died. You have to remember that."

Draining his glass in a gulp Jack then stood up, ending the talk. "I do," he said in a resigned tone. "I remember all too well."

Xx--

Work.

Jack and Samantha seemed to inhabit different areas of space quite adequately for the next two weeks, and he made sure she was paired up with someone else if needed; Vivian and Danny just felt he was being apparent by not pairing them together. They decided to act the next time Jack did it again, reasoning it might be nice for the two of them to work together, especially since they were keeping so far apart from each other on a daily basis. Danny was impressed that Vivian was being good about it; Vivian thought there was no point in fighting it after all this time.

The next opportunity presented itself in the bull pen after Jack had given out who was doing what on the next case. Viv and Martin left to do their share but Danny was lingering with intent.

"No," said Jack, drawing a timeline on the whiteboard when Danny decided to mention it. "I'll handle it by myself."

"But I can manage the little old ladies alone in the rest home alone and Samantha can help you with the family," explained Danny, lightly. "She's good at that," he pointed out, ignoring the shocked look Samantha was giving him.

Jack shook his head. "We go with my original plan."

"And it's a fine idea as always Jack, but I just thought-"

"Danny, just do what I say, all right?" Jack snapped, a little too harshly, looking over at Danny and nearly crushing the tip on the marker pen as he made a period at the same time.

"Okay, okay," Danny conceded, bewildered and not a little hurt at Jack's attitude. Swapping around hadn't been a problem before, in fact he now knew it had obviously helped Jack and Samantha out in the past when he'd suggested it, even though it hadn't been his intention at the time.

They all set out on their various missions. Samantha looked at Danny as they descended in the lift. "What was all that about? Don't you want to work with me?"

Danny folded his arms, wondering why the hell this charade was still going on. "You hadn't partnered with Jack for a while; I thought it might be nice."

_That would be a load of fun __– it would be just like here: all business and nothing else._ "It's okay, but I can fight my own battles, thank you."

Danny grunted. "Sure, whatever you want."

"Hey, I don't know why he doesn't want to work with me," she lied, throwing it all back on Jack.

"Sure…" Danny said, leaning forward to jab the buttons again so he could roll his eyes.

Xx—

Jack was looking through his CDs in the living room. He found his U2's _Greatest Hits_ and was just about to put it into the stereo when Hanna suddenly said: "No Dad, we want to watch TV!"

Looking around Jack frowned. "I thought you were both in your room?" His hearing must be getting worse, or the girls had been taught some new stealth techniques by Mickey.

"We're bored and we want to watch some TV… please," Kate added as an afterthought.

"Since you won't let us play on the computer," Hanna said, making a point.

Jack chose to ignore the barb. "Well, I was here first and I want to listen to some music."

"What music?" Hanna then asked bluntly.

"Oh, just some U2."

Kate's nose wrinkled. "Bunch of old men."

Jack shot her a wry look. "I think you might mean the Rolling Stones."

Hanna laughed. "Hey, what about 'Ew2'?" she asked, sending Kate off into a fit of giggles.

Biting his tongue, Jack took the CD out. "Okay, you can watch TV, but I'm going to use your CD player," he stated, walking away.

"That's fine, Dad!" Hanna called out before there was more laughter.

Jack first went to the kitchen and poured himself a large whisky into a tumbler. The whisky bottle had made its way back into general usage since the girls' return. He sighed inwardly. So much for keeping away from it. Picking the glass up, he carried it with him as he looked for the girls' pink Barbie CD player, hoping the sound quality would be better than he expected.

Plugging the player in by his bed, he put in the CD and forwarded it to the song he wanted. Then, swinging his legs onto the big empty bed, he stretched himself out as U2's _One_ started to play.

Samantha's robe hadn't lasted long in the drawer; Jack now had it folded up and tucked under her pillow. Taking it out during the guitar intro, he placed it beside him. It used to smell of her, but it was starting to fade already. He liked having it near.

_Is it getting better  
Or do you feel the same?_

_Will it make it easier on you now  
You got someone to blame?_

Jack groaned._  
_

_No Bono, it's not getting better and the blame would of course be mine..._

He was desperately trying to remember the time in the bar that Samantha had spoken about; by playing the music he'd hoped to recall the scene better. That later, wonderful night here in his apartment he certainly remembered, but his earlier memory was still slipping away. It had been important for Samantha, and he wanted it to be important for himself. The words drifted into his head:

_Did I disappoint you  
Or leave a bad taste in your mouth?  
You act like you never had love  
And you want me to go without_

Still a superb song but the lyrics were just becoming warped into Jack's situation. He swirled the whisky in the glass as he listened.

_Did I ask too much  
More than a lot  
You gave me nothing  
Now it's all I got  
_

He didn't wait until the song had finished before hitting the shuffle button. As the next song began, he recognized it as being _All I Want is You_ -just what he didn't need to hear. Since his idea wasn't turning out so well, he decided to turn it all off and just lay there, his hand idley stroking the robe, the other clasping his glass, lost in his own thoughts of Samantha for a while.

He knew she wasn't happy with the situation at work, but at least they could be around each other. Not partnering up together just meant he didn't have to have her asking awkward questions- which he knew she wanted to do.

She just had to be patient…

"Daddy?" Kate had crept in.

He turned his head towards her. "Yes, sweetie?"

"Will you come and watch tv with us? It's about Egypt and they're going to show how mummies were made. It should be _really_ gross."

"Sure thing," said Jack, getting up.

There really wasn't anything he still needed to do here.

"Did you find the song you wanted?" she asked, looking over at the CD player.

"Yes, but I don't really want to listen to it right now."

He stopped with Kate in the hallway, thinking it might be worth a try. "Hey, can I please talk to you about Samantha for a few minutes?"

Kate looked at him, her face grim. "No," she said succinctly, and she took his hand, tugging on it as they went to the living room. "Come _on_..."

Settling on the sofa and feeling shot down, some more of _One'_s words came to Jack's mind:

_Well it's...  
Too late,__ t__onight  
To drag the past out into the light…_Maybe some things ought to stay hidden away and forgotten.

_Well__, we hurt each other  
Then we do it again  
_

Jack sighed to himself, earning a quizzical look from Hanna.

_Got that right, Bono._

Xx—

Samantha had decided to turn off the dreadful television choices and go to bed early. Pulling the sheet over her, she couldn't stop herself wondering what Jack was doing now.

She always wondered when she got to bed alone these days.

Thinking of her?

Possibly.

She would like to think so, even if he wasn't showing it at work.

Running around after his daughters?

Definitely.

Take that as given.

She groaned as she turned, trying to find a suitable sleeping position, knowing it would take some time, so she settled for lying on her back, forcing her eyes shut.

_Jack__…_

_Jack, Jack, Jack…_

_Why did he think this would be okay? __That this would be easy?_

Pushing her pillows about, she hated how the bed just seemed so big and empty –clichés about that happening were so true.

She _had_ to think about him, there just seemed no other choice.

Didn't want any other choice.

Relaxing, she sighed, and gave in.

It was their time in the Hamptons that drifted into her mind this time. It had been perfect; he was so happy and relaxed and she had felt so truly loved. He was there, as she remembered, holding her close in that huge bed, whispering words of love and desire to her. She could still recall the sunlight on their bodies, his warm scent, his hands as they gently and slowly glided across her skin…

Her own hand slid down under her panties, the other went up under her t-shirt, where her fingers began to focus on an already hardened nipple.

She began to feel better.

Much, much better.

Okay… it wasn't with him in the physical sense.

It wouldn't be anywhere as good as the real thing.

Never, ever.

But at least she'd get there faster.

And it was better than nothing, right now.

Xx—

Some days later, Stevie had something she needed to do so she arranged to bring the girls by the office and leave them in Jack's care. Jack wasn't particularly happy about having them this time due to the short notice and particularly the Samantha thing, but he had little choice in the matter, and he couldn't say no as they didn't have a case on.

His daughters had arrived when Vivian was with Jack in his office and she stayed to chat, having not seen them for some time. A prospective time for coming over to hang out with Reggie was agreed upon.

"Can we see Danny and Martin now too, Dad?" Kate asked.

"We haven't seen them for sooooo long –please?" Hanna looked angelic as she spoke –it was a nice change really. "Are they at their desks?"

"Ah, I think they're busy right now-" They were in the bullpen with Samantha, and he didn't want the girls to go looking for them there. There was an unsaid agreement about Samantha that hung in the air and he'd be damned if he would let them break it by having her around as bait.

At work she was off-limits.

Not that they talked about Samantha at home; if his daughters, did it wasn't within Jack's hearing. He'd tried to broach the subject two more times but had got shut off by the two small, strong forces.

Kate and Hanna were waiting for their answer, knowing he'd give in.

"Hang on, I'll just go check," Vivian offered thoughtfully, getting up and she was on her way before Jack could say anything further.

He waved at the table. "Go and put your things over there and then you can do your arty stuff and read your books when the guys have gone."

"Okay," they chimed, hauling their bags, excited and squealing at the prospect of seeing Danny and Martin.

_Good grief_, thought Jack as Vivian returned with the guys and the racket increased, _it's a like a mini Martin and Danny fan club._

Getting up to shut the door to keep the noise contained, he looked over to the bull pen and saw Samantha's lonely figure at her desk. He knew she was searching through some photos and she got up and turned, about to put one on the table when she glanced up at that moment.

Their eyes locked for several seconds.

He couldn't mistake the look of sad longing in her eyes before she hurriedly looked away again and went back to her desk.

Samantha had certainly felt frozen out when Vivian had come to get the boys, but she pretended not to pay attention; the last thing she needed was to see those girls of Jack's right now, especially in the office.

Things were still too raw.

She hadn't wanted to catch Jack's eyes, but she had.

It felt like it was the first real time forever.

There was a moment where Samantha sensed she actually could see some of her own pain reflected there.

It must have been a mistake.

Jack was too busy playing happy families to worry about her anymore, or the both of them.

Slipping out of his office, Jack walked over to her desk, knowing the girls could entertain everyone for a few minutes at least. Vivian watched him go out of the corner of her eye, thinking it would be nice for them to have some time together where they didn't have to pretend.

"Hey," Jack said, for want of anything better to say as he perched himself next to Samantha. He liked doing that; it was a natural place for him to be when talking to her and he hadn't done so for quite some time.

"Hey," she said back, holding a blurry photo in front of her.

"Any luck with them?" he asked, indicating the piles.

She tried not noticing how close his body was. "No luck, I'll keep looking and sorting."

"Mm, good…" he said, surveying her desk, noticing that his shell and stone were still there on the far side. "Look, I'm sorry about Viv coming over just for the guys…"

Shrugging, Samantha put the photo down in one pile and picked up another. "It's okay; I don't think I'd be the most popular person for the girls to see. I'll just avoid them."

"Sorry, but I guess it's for the best."

"I suppose."

His eyes were examining her; she could feel his gaze sweeping over her. "How are you, okay?" he asked quietly.

She put the photo down, but hesitated, not picking up another. "Now you ask?"

"I care, I'd like to know."

Looking up at him, it wasn't quite incredulity in Samantha's eyes that he could see, but it was close. "I can understand your reasoning Jack, but I can't understand your indifference to me. You never really look at me; you never want me on a case with you-"

"I do, you know I do, but I just thought it might be easier on us both."

"You're very good at making decisions for me these days…You think that this is fun, that I'm enjoying this… situation?"

"I wouldn't say that-."

"Then no, it isn't working."

"I can't see any other way at this present-"

"You haven't even called me."

"I don't really get the chance to be alone!" He looked up and around, realizing his voice was too loud.

Samantha was just glaring at him now, classifying his last remark under the shittiest excuse ever.

Leaning down an inch, he lowered his voice. "To tell the truth, I don't know what to say, what you want me to say…" _Especially if it's going to be this type of conversation. _"And besides, you just seem pissed off at me all the time."

"That's because I am," she stated, picking up a photo. "It's still not good enough."

With a frustrated grunt Jack left her to it and went back to his office.

It was time his team got some work done.

Xx--

TBC

_One_: lyrics and music written by U2.


	23. Crossed Wires

**A/N**: Thanks to everyone that takes the time and care to review, it's always appreciated. A very big thanks to **Mariel** who had her work cut out for her when she betaed this chapter as my mind must have been somewhere else when I was writing the newer scenes. Any mistakes were made after I fiddled with the story afterwards, so blame me. Thank you for your patience and I hope you don't mind a chapter being added so soon, instead of the usual months I make you all wait.

Yep, expect more angst, because all this was planned way before the end of the series, but like I said, I'll get there in the end.

**Disclaime**r: CBS are still sods and still don't deserve these marvellous characters. Jack Malone is still my man, despite the stupid things the writers of the show put in his mouth.

* * *

**But Not Forgotten**

**Chapter 21**

**Crossed Wires**

Xx--

Jack hadn't noticed his neck chain was dangling out of his shirt until he took off his dirt-covered FBI jacket, and even then it wouldn't have registered if it hadn't been for the look of obvious interest he'd received from Samantha.

He, Martin and Samantha had just put their jackets back into the car trunk. Jack was wiping his mucky hands on a rag when he saw her staring at something below his neck. Looking down, he saw the offending piece of jewelry and then he looked back up in time to catch her wounded expression. He realised that, while hanging half-upside down and reaching for a missing person caught in a drain, the slender chain must have slipped out from under his open shirt collar, the weight of the wedding ring making it fall out.

"Okay if I call shot gun?" Martin asked Samantha, already on his way to open the front passenger door.

With a terse look at Jack, Samantha shook her head. "Be my guest…"

Sitting in the front seat next to Jack was not what she wanted to do. Sitting in the back seat so he could see her pissed off face every time he looked in the rear-view mirror definitely _was_.

Jack couldn't help but feel he'd screwed up yet again.

Xx--

Frowning, Jack leafed through his organizer. "It's tomorrow?" he asked, juggling the phone against his shoulder.

Olczyk sighed a little wearily. "The Director keeps having to change his travel plans and it's the only night he's got free. And he's definitely bringing his wife along, so partners are compulsory, and that goes for Taylor too, otherwise his wife will be stuck talking to mine all evening –I'm still not letting you weasel out of it, either."

"Yeah, yeah," Jack muttered, his mind casting around. So much for turning up by himself, despite what Olczyk had said before on the matter.

"I'm sending you the details in an email right now."

"Okay, I'll be there," he said in a resigned tone, hoping for a case instead.

"You seem to be under the impression you have some choice in this. You'll enjoy it; you know what Baines is like," Olczyk said before hanging up.

Jack hated the politics of it all. _Social event, my ass._

There was no chance of inviting Samantha now –unless he wanted a dinner date that would ignore him all evening and still have Olczyk's wife staring at them. Thinking about what to do, Jack waited for Olczyk's email before flicking it off to Danny. Vivian could be an option, but then that would mean Martin and Samantha were excluded and it was all a bit cliquey. Then his eyes alighted on a file on his desk which sent an idea through his mind. He dialled.

It was picked up on the 3rd ring. "Lisa? It's Jack from the MPU…I know it's short notice and a bit of an imposition… but are you free tomorrow night?"

She was delighted and more than happy to go by the tone of her voice.

Dr. Lisa Harris was a safe bet.

It was a work thing after all.

Xx—

Two days later, Vivian turned around to find Danny grinning at her.

"Well, good morning to you… So," she enquired, "how was the big dinner?"

"Awesome! I'm glad Baines picked up the check; I'm betting it was huge. I don't get that well fed often enough," he said, patting his flat stomach.

"Who else was there?"

Danny already had an evasion of his own planned by throwing Jack deep into the nest of vipers. "Well, you're not going to believe this…"

"What?"

He leant in towards her. "Jack took Lisa Harris!"

"As in Dr. Harris? No!"

"Yes."

"Shit!" Vivian breathed, marvelling at the complications. Jack and Samantha were really making this convoluted.

"Yes!"

"What's all this?" asked Samantha coming over as she arrived, intrigued about the huddle.

Danny straightened up. "Uh… nothing… Nothing at all." He didn't know what to say, so silence was his best option.

Samantha scoffed. "Yeah right, come on –spill."

Martin suddenly arrived. "Morning, and how was the big dinner, Danny?"

"What big dinner?" asked Samantha, looking from one man to the other; it was the first she'd heard.

Danny thought she was feigning curiosity well. "Nothing special, a little thing at the _Olive Garden_."

"Don't talk bull, Danny… He was out with Olczyk, Director Baines and Jack last night at a top of the line restaurant," Martin supplied.

Danny shot him a withering look. "Do you have to know everything?"

"Hey, I didn't even get that from my dad!" he was quick to point out.

Samantha was impressed. "Oh, that sounds nice for you, Danny."

"It was a thank you from Baines for the Washington trip…" Danny muttered, trailed off.

"And I heard you took Elena," Martin threw in, enjoying Danny's discomfiture as he went to his desk.

"Way to go watching my back, man." Danny was going to have to have to come up with a suitable revenge. Maybe an extra Narcotics Anonymous meeting or three.

The two women were looking at him, open-mouthed and wide-eyed.

"What?" he asked, pseudo-innocently.

"_Elena_?" Vivian managed, thinking how much of a dark horse Danny could be. He was definitely going to get an interrogation for that.

Samantha raised an eyebrow. "Anything _else_ we should know, guys?"

It wasn't Danny's fault that Martin wouldn't know he was making things worse, and Danny had no real reason to stop him. "Oh yeah -Jack took Lisa Harris," Martin threw in, flicking through the mail in his desk inbox, unconcerned. He wasn't looking for a reaction as he didn't know there would be one to get.

The surprised, shocked then hurt looks that flitted past Samantha's face in nanoseconds said it all.

Vivian's look of amazement was real –not about Dr. Harris, but at Samantha's expressions; she presumed earlier that it may have been part of the elaborate game, now she wasn't so sure. "Jack did? How… interesting…" she covered.

Samantha was still stunned, but rallied enough. "Oh… well… that must have been a nice evening for you all."

Danny nodded, confused. "It was… Quite a lot of fun, actually."

Samantha numbly sat down at her desk and picked up her own mail, wondering what the hell was going on.

He hadn't given her the chance to say yes to an invitation –or even no.

_That's it. I'm going to have to kill him._

Then she thought about it some more.

Hiding from Jack seemed a more viable option.

Xx--

_A day later._

Jack had been too busy to make it to the bull pen so far that morning. He had just stepped out of the elevator from visiting the 7th floor when he bumped into Dr. Harris.

"Hello, Jack!" she said cheerily, not believing her luck as she'd already manufactured an excuse to come to the 12th and had returned from wandering past his empty office.

"Hey, how are you?" asked Jack, politely.

"Fine, I wanted to say thanks for dinner the other night." She'd been hoping he'd call.

"You're welcome, but it was Director Baines' evening, not mine."

"Yes, well, you know..." He must have asked her to go with him for a reason; it must have ended with the other person, or else why would he have invited her along? She'd been thinking about it a lot. It was her foremost conclusion.

Jack looked at her curiously. She seemed to be stalling for some reason, but he couldn't understand why. "It was a nice evening. Thanks for accompanying me," he said, which was pretty much what he'd said when he'd dropped her afterwards at her place. After declining coffee, he'd sat in his car, making sure she got to the apartment building's front door okay and then had driven off home, with a doggy bag of his uneaten dessert for the girls.

Smiling demurely, Lisa laughed a little. "Yes... yes. It was fun."

She didn't seem to be wrapping it up and Jack was feeling like something else was expected. "Catch you soon."

"Okay, sometime," she said, wondering if Jack had gotten his psych degree from the back of a comic book. How obvious could she be? Hadn't the invitation for coffee been enough?

_Not obvious enough__,_ she thought watching him walk away.

Much to her heavy disappointment, it was now the lesser conclusion: it _had _been a work thing, after all.

Xx--

Martin was in the break room when Jack and his empty FBI mug found him. "Nothing serious, but we need to get together to go over some stuff."

Martin nodded. "Later this afternoon?"

"That'll be fine."

"How did you enjoy dinner the other night? Danny said it was pretty good."

"Very nice. I enjoy fine dining even more when someone else is picking up the tab," Jack said genially, going to the sink. "So Danny mentioned it to you." News travels fast within the FBI walls, so he wasn't surprised.

Pouring himself a fresh cup to go with his danish, Martin nodded. "He told the team. I have to say we were all surprised you took Lisa Harris."

Jack shrugged, nonchalently. "It was for work and she was free."

Martin nodded. "It was a good idea then. I'll catch you later," he said, leaving.

"Okay." On reflection, Jack thought that Martin seemed less twitchy these days, which was a good thing.

Jack paused in rinsing his mug.

_He told the team_…

So Samantha had heard.

_Not that it was a secret._

He dried his mug.

_She would know__ he had taken Dr. Harris along because it was just for work._

Pausing again, he suddenly realized he had hardly seen Samantha for a couple of days, probably since she'd found out, and now he thought about it, it was almost if she were trying to steer clear of him.

He angrily rubbed his eyes with his hand as the flash of insight set in.

_Stupid, stupid…_

Xx--

On his way back from the break room, Jack caught a rare sighting of Samantha leaving the bull pen and decided to intercept her in the hallway.

"Sam…" he began.

She stopped. There was nowhere to hide, and there was no choice but to face him. She made sure there was a judgmental look on her face.

"Look," he began, "I know why you've been avoiding me-"

Samantha cut him off with three words.

"Lisa. Fucking. Harris," she hissed, before walking away from him.

Xx--

_Four hours later._

Danny stood up and stretched. "I need to get away from my desk. Coffees?" he offered. Both Vivian and Samantha said yes. Martin was in his arranged meeting with Jack, going over some documents, so Danny decided they could fend for themselves.

Vivian was chewing on her pencil. "I just hope those DNA results come back sooner rather than later on that Steiner case," she said for something to say. It was something they'd been working on for a few days but was now heading towards the cold case territory.

Samantha looked up briefly. "Well, we'll just have to wait."

"I hate the waiting."

Samantha nodded, thinking she sounded just like Jack –and herself. _I know just what you mean…_

She then mentally castigated herself. She didn't want to think about him as she was still angry, but old habits were hard to break. It was almost like having a default Jack setting wired into her brain.

After a few of minutes, there was the sound of quiet footsteps behind her. "Just put the coffee there, thanks Danny," she said, waving to her right.

"Ah… Agent Spade?" asked a small, feminine voice.

Looking around Samantha was confronted with yet another large, long bunch of flowers, dwarfing a rather short intern, which wasn't hard. She was cradling them like she was in a beauty pageant.

_Oh__, hell…_

"Those are for me?" Samantha asked, more as a statement than a question. Jack hadn't sent any flowers for some time, but she knew they were from him.

A pair of bright blue eyes down looked at the bouquet. "Your name's on the delivery slip but there doesn't seem to be a card attached… Not that I'd look inside or anything if there were," the intern added hurriedly.

Flowers were the last thing Sam wanted from Jack right there and then. She stared at them. As did Vivian, who thought it was yet another lovely gesture -if yet again over the top.

There were too many types of flowers, a fact not lost on the intern. "Gosh. There's quite a variety here -purple hyacinths, primroses, lovely irises and wow, even violets tucked in there –I don't think they're even all in season! And those red roses really make it. It's quite impressive."

It _was _an odd assortment Vivian had to agree. No one would seriously put that together –unless there was a reason…

"I like red roses, " prattled the intern, "you know what that means…" she said, a grin on her face.

Inspired by what the intern had just said and working on a similar line, Vivian acted on a hunch, and turning to her keyboard, she started to google.

Samantha was still staring vacantly at the flowers. The intern smiled. "Where can I put them?" she asked, moving towards her.

"No… no…" murmured Samantha, almost to herself. _He's not going to make up the lost time or the ring thing or Lisa Harris with flowers as some silly gesture._

She honestly didn't want them around.

"Would you like them?" she asked the intern.

Vivian nearly swallowed her tongue as she heard the words.

The intern looked at Samantha, then the bouquet, then back at Samantha again. "Really?"

"I'm just not in the mood right now. Please, I think you'd appreciate them more."

"O-kay… If you're sure."

"Be my guest." _Just get the damn things out of my sight for Christ's sake!_

The intern was delighted. "They'll look great in my apartment -thank you, Agent Spade!"

"You're welcome-" began Samantha and then realized she didn't have a clue what the intern's name was as the flowers were now obscuring her name tag.

Turning back to her desk, she waited until the footsteps had receded before putting her head in her hands, hoping like hell Vivian wouldn't notice.

Having found what she was looking on the net, Vivian was intrigued. Jack's bouquet was old fashioned flower language –he must have had a florist who still did that kind of stuff. A lovely thought, but also a bit obscure these days. She had written down what the flowers had meant:

_Forgive me__. _

_I can't live without you__. _

_I'll always be true__._

_Hope._

_Love._

There had been a definite message and she doubted Samantha knew that -which was a pity and too late now. Something was definitely up with them. She looked over at the unhappy blonde, who was facing her PC screen but had her face shielded with a hand.

Danny appeared, carrying three mugs and went over to Vivian, giving her one. Vivian indicated Samantha with a tip of her head. Taking Samantha's mug from Danny she pointed for him to go back to his desk as she got up. He compromised by leaning against the bull pen's table to listen, wondering what had been going on; he had passed someone with a bouquet in the hallway but had thought nothing of it.

"Hey," Vivian said gently as she came and stood by Samantha, putting the mug nearby. "That was a pretty nice bunch of flowers from James."

"Uh-huh," said Samantha, a slight sniffle coming from her direction.

"And it was kind of you to give them away…"

"I didn't want them."

"Do you think he'll mind?"

"I don't actually care what he thinks to tell the truth."

_Oh_… "Things not well with you two?" she asked, meaning of course with Samantha and Jack.

Taking a deep shuddering breath, Samantha looked at Vivian. She was tired of pretending all was well between her and her so-called substitute boyfriend. "No, we split up. It just wasn't working out…"

"Really?" asked Vivian, glancing over at Danny, who did a eye roll combined with a head shake into his mug. He glanced over at Jack's office; he and Martin were still busy.

A break-up would explain a lot, if that's what it was.

Samantha nodded again. "Yes, so no more of us."

"You want to talk about it?"

"No, it's okay." She smiled thinly at Vivian. "It's fine… I'll be fine."

_I've had to be for some time now._

Vivian lay a comforting hand on her shoulder. "You know we're here."

"Thank you," sniffed Samantha as Vivian returned to her desk, shooting Danny a look. He shrugged his shoulders as he went back to his chair, wondering like Vivian if this were just another ruse, or if it really were about Jack and Samantha.

Samantha reached out a hand and lightly touched Jack's gift of the shell and stone from their time at the Hamptons.

Something else she didn't need to look at right now.

Xx—

Jack may have been busy with Martin, but he hadn't missed the flowers being carried into the bull pen and then, much to his surprise, come out shortly afterwards, being carried by a happy, short person.

He'd spent some time with the florist during lunch getting that bouquet organised. It was a Victorian idea but the florist had suggested it as being a bit different, plus Jack was out of options and it was a novel thing to do.

Hurrying along the work with Martin, they finished up and he trailed Martin to the bullpen, so he could take in the general area and feeling.

Martin went over to say something to Danny and Jack was just in time to see Samantha pull out a drawer, pick up her stone and shell, and put them in.

Out of sight.

Then she quite firmly shut the drawer again, before picking up her coffee and turning her attention to the files on her desk.

Between that gesture and the flowers being given away, he stood there a few beats, in some sort of mild shock before turning on his heel and going back to his office.

_If that's the way she wants to play it –fine._

Xx-

Days later, Samantha scowled as Jack dropped the large box of files on her desk. "These are for you to archive."

"Thanks –you're a real doll," she said, her voice laced with sarcasm.

"Well, there's a whole lot more where that came from," Jack said, his own voice carrying a more subtle threat of a longer period of banishment to the Bureau's basement.

Samantha watched him walk away over the top of the box, thinking of an appropriate curse for the man she actually still loved, but was still angry with. Finding nothing, she turned her attention to the box.

_A change of scenery would be good for me right now, I suppose._

She knew better than to ask Danny and Martin for help, as they already had tasks occupying them, so she stood and hauled up the box. "You know where to find me," she remarked to the guys, before setting off.

She had barely made it to the office doors when Jackson Kitagawa caught up with her. "How's it going?" he asked. "Can I help you there?" and without further ado, he wrested the box away from her. "Where do you need these to go?" He was like a happy, helpful boy scout, armed with questions.

"Archives..." she said morosely, just as a thought occurred to her. "Hey, you did say you owed me, if you'd like to help-"

"I'd love to –it's my lunch break but I've got nothing to do."

Samantha noticed Jack looking up as they walked past his office. "Me neither, and I could really use an extra hand."

"That's why I'm here," Kitagawa said, breezily. "Lead on."

Xx--

It was nearly an hour later. Danny could have written the script for what was going on in the doorway. He was standing at his desk, reading a file, when he glanced up and suddenly found himself watching a small drama unfold. He looked over at Martin, who was luckily head down examining some data print-out. Feigning interest in the documents he held in his hands, Danny casually settled in to observe the proceedings.

Samantha had clearly been helped with filing, and she and Kitagawa had paused in the doorway on their return. He was nodding, acting shy, obviously making a suggestion; Samantha was shrugging but smiling, then nodding; Kitagawa was grinning broadly back, looking at his watch, making an intimation of time.

He was undoubtedly asking her out.

And it was all going on before an unobserved silent witness. Jack was standing in his office doorway behind them, and -Danny was convinced by the stony look on his face- he had been overhearing what they were saying. Kitagawa and Samantha then came to some agreement, nodding in unison and Kitagawa went back to his post, grinning like a maniac. Samantha suddenly looked over her shoulder, perhaps sensing Jack's presence. Danny watched as Jack tipped his head. She turned around, visibly chastened, and followed him inside his office, shutting the door behind her.

Danny wasn't a crack FBI agent for nothing and he could put two and two together pretty quickly.

Making his mind up and how to play it, he looked over at Martin. "I'll be back in a moment."

Going over to Kitagawa's desk, Danny found the young man now checking his email. He perched on the edge of his desk and stared at him. Kitagawa looked up, surprised. "Uh, Agent Taylor, can I help you with something?" he asked, uncertainty clearly showing on his features.

Danny softened his own. "No, Jackson-_san_, but I think I can help you with something."

Uncertainty was replaced by confusion. "Help me –with what?"

Leaning down, Danny lowered his voice. "Saving your career, rookie. Making sure that you make the best decision for your glorious future in the FBI."

"I'm sorry -I don't know what you mean."

Danny moved back a bit. "I like you Jackson –_Jack_- and it's because I do that I'm going to give you some timely advice." Kitagawa said nothing, so Danny continued: "You know my colleague Martin, of course," he stated, waving in the direction of Martin's desk.

Kitagawa got up slightly from his chair to peer across the office towards Martin's desk. "Yes -Agent Fitzgerald, we sort of worked together on that case-"

"So, do you know who his father is? Let me tell you –Victor Fitzgerald."

There was a flicker of recognition on Kitagawa's face as he sat back down. "Isn't that-?"

"Yes, our dear beloved deputy director."

"O-kay," said Kitagawa, wondering where Danny was going with this.

Danny was warming to his theme. "No, not okay. What you may not know is that Martin and _Samantha _used to go out together. Very hot, very heavy, very intense, practically marriage-in-waiting. He was heartbroken when she dumped him and it took him ages to get over it. He's still extremely bitter about it," he said, lying and embellishing like a professional. Danny marvelled how young the rookies were these days, and, judging by the look on Kitagawa's face, how gullible.

Kitagawa was open mouthed as a confused goldfish. "They went out together? But it couldn't have been all that bad; they still work on the same team," he reasoned.

"They have, shall we say, a ceasefire between them. It's taken a while, but they've worked it out. However it still doesn't mean that Martin would like her going out with someone from this office, and who knows? He might just mention it to his dad…"

"Shit…" Kitagawa was wide-eyed.

"And you'll be up to your eyebrows in it, if you don't fix what I think you've just done."

"But it was just going to be coffee and a movie-"

"Yes, yes, of course, but Martin –who is the deputy director's treasured son- might not look at it that way if he found out, and believe me, he's _good_ at finding out things…"

"Where's Samantha now?"

"Agent Spade is in Agent Malone's office –but I'm sure they wouldn't mind the interruption…"

He stood as Kitagawa jumped up, pushing past him.

Watching as the rookie raced away, Danny felt pleased with his work and knew –ultimately- that it was for the greater good. Jack and Samantha didn't need any added distractions, certainly not from rookies, real break-up or not.

Xx--

Jack ushered Samantha in after she closed the door and leaned against his desk, arms folded. She sat in one of his chairs.

There was a long, uncomfortable pause.

When Samantha started to look at her fingernails, Jack spoke: "What the hell was that about -is it what I think it was?" The waiting hadn't made him any less infuriated.

Her dark eyes caught his for a micro-second before looking at her hands again. "And this matters to you how?"

He unfolded his arms and gripped the edge of the desk instead. "You know it matters to me."

"I really couldn't say. Not anymore," Samantha said bluntly, looking out the glass doors to the bullpen.

"He's only a kid!"

"It's only coffee and a movie. I need to find something to do in my evenings. It was okay for you to take Lisa Harris out for dinner-"

"It was for work. It was a work thing." _How many times do I have to justify it?_

"Oh yes, but you could have gone by yourself."

"It wasn't my choice."

Samantha gave him a look that meant she clearly didn't believe him. "Of _course_. Anyway, I know she looks at you a certain way."

"Well, I'm pleased you're jealous enough to notice!"

Now they stared at each other fiercely, each trying to make a point.

The staring continued for a while, neither backing down. Each wondering how they could have arrived at this point in time.

"Look," said Jack, "this is getting ridiculous, this isn't how it should be between-"

There was a tapping at the door. Samantha and Jack both looked over as Kitagawa pushed the door open. "Uh… excuse me, but can I have a word with you, Agent Spade?" he asked sheepishly.

She didn't even bother looking at Jack before addressing Kitagawa. "It's fine. What's up?"

"Well… it's just what we were talking about before. I have to… um… cancel."

"A rain check, then?"

"Maybe not even that… I'm sorry Sam, I have to think about my caree- uh, other things," and with that he gave a small, apologetic smile and left, closing the door behind him.

Watching him go, Jack tried unsuccessfully to hide his amusement. "Well, looks like you've got a free evening now." He looked back at her and the emergent smirk disappeared.

Samantha was studying at the floor. "Yes, Jack –whatever." She lifted her head and looked at him, a picture of abject misery. "Happy now? More competition out of the way?" Before he could make a reply, she rose and left.

His eyes following her, Jack didn't really know what had happened and it had nothing to do with him. Samantha wouldn't have believed him if he'd told her he felt just as miserable as she was. He'd have hardly called Kitagawa competition; however he sure as hell was glad that Samantha wasn't getting the remotest chance to find out.

Xx--

A few days later, Jack and Samantha could not avoid working with each other. They were interviewing a certain Melody Strannis, a generally pathetic case whom life had not treated well. She had come to the police with information and had found her way to the MPU. It turned out she had been living with Gregory Carmichael for a few weeks, the same Gregory Carmichael from the Renee Mitchell case –although he'd called himself Greg Carr with her. It had been going along reasonably okay until one night he'd bashed her badly. She'd ended up in hospital and was looking for a way to get back at him as he'd disappeared. She had a small record of petty theft of her own and it was hard to believe the information she was giving, although her bruised face was telling quite a story, it hadn't stopped her belligerency. She wanted them to get hold of him right there and then, but had no further information of where he might be. All in all, it hadn't gone well. After getting whatever information she had, Jack had given her his card if she remembered anything else, terminated the interview, and buzzed for an agent to escort her out.

It was now just him and Samantha. "That could have gone better," he said, sarcastically, coming over to stand near her. She gave no reply. "I thought I was supposed to be bad cop and you the good cop? It seemed we were both bad cop," he pointed out.

"She was playing some weird game with us –like 'find him with the little info I've given you or else'. It's a bit hard to do."

"Well, yes…" Watching as Samantha picked up the files on Carmichael and then stood to leave, Jack impulsively put his hand on her upper arm to stop her. "Hang on."

She looked down at his hand, then at him. "You want to talk now? Here?" She was definitely Not in the Mood.

He took his hand away. "What's wrong with this?"

"Oh yes, great spot," she gestured to the two-way mirror and the phone on the wall.

Jack went to the phone and punched in a code to turn it off. "There, better?" They could still be seen, but not eavesdropped on.

Samantha put the file down and sat down again, arms folded. "What do you want to say?" She wasn't enthusiastic about the prospects.

He sat down opposite her. "We need to talk… Look, I'm sorry about Lisa Harris, but I had to take someone to the damn thing-"

"I couldn't have gone with you?"

"No, actually. It's because Olczyk knows about us." He nodded at her surprised look. "It's all got to do with his wife, _LDF_ and seeing us there."

"And when did he talk to you?"

"About a week after the case… Yes, I should have told you, I know," he said at her look. "And as for the ring…" He sighed. "My girls expect me to wear it at home, but I don't want to wear it around you. Hanging it around my neck seemed the best thing to do."

Samantha nodded, it was something at least. Jack was certainly coming clean, however she wasn't concerned about Olczyk as Jack didn't seem to be, besides she needed to ask him the question that had been on her mind for some time: "Have you spoken to your daughters?"

She didn't need to explain what she meant. "I've tried," he said curtly.

"Tried," Samantha repeated.

"They cut me off." Again, he wasn't elaborating, there was no point.

Samantha couldn't help narrow her eyes. "You know, I don't think you're making an effort. I think you think I'll just hang around waiting for you forever."

"And movie dates with a boy would pass your time nicely, would it?" he asked acidly.

"You have your daughters and get expensive dinners with the Director and Lisa Harris. Like I said, I need some kind of life."

Exasperated, Jack threw his hands in the air. "I'm not stopping you, damn it!"

"Yes, you are. Do you have to approve everyone I might go out with?"

Jack was incredulous. "I didn't make him call it off! This is stupid…" He paused. "You didn't even want the flowers I sent you."

"Oh yes, big gesture."

"It's the best I can do right now."

"If that's your best you're not trying hard enough, damn it," Samantha said standing, ready to leave.

"And I saw you put the things from the beach in your drawer." He realized how childish he sounded.

"Yes… well…" She found she had no comeback to that. "At least they're not in the trash."

"Gee, thanks," sniped Jack.

Xx—

The agent Jack had used went to the bull pen and found only Vivian there. "Just to pass on that Melody Strannis has left the building, Agents Malone and Spade had finished with her."

"Where was that?"

He jerked a thumb over his shoulder. "Interview 1. They're still in there and instead of interrupting them I thought you should know."

"Okay, thank you…" she said, letting him go. Having just got back herself, Vivian had wondered where everyone was and after tidying up her desk, had thought she might as well go home.

So Jack and Samantha were still in the interview room…

_That might be either a good or a stupid idea._

Setting off, she found three agents who had just come to as standstill in front of the mirror, watching. One look from her and they were chased off. She leaned against the glass, arms folded. It wasn't much, but if Jack and Samantha were talking –albeit in an impractical place- then the least she could do was stop them from becoming a sideshow until they were finished.

Xx—

By now they were both standing, either side of the table.

"Jesus Sam, you're treating me like crap all the time –that's if you're not avoiding me, like a child."

"And I can't talk to you at work because you walk off and I'm not allowed to speak to you at home because your kids said so…" She walked over to the corner, to the right of the mirror. "I'm tired of this! You have two daughters you can't deal with and that you let walk all over you."

Not appreciating the criticism of his parenting skills, Jack knew nonetheless she was right. "That may be so, but when it comes to the crunch, they are still my daughters."

Samantha let out a frustrated groan and turned away from him.

He stared at her in disbelief. "You were there, you heard them, as well as Maria's parents -I don't have a lot of leeway here."

"So your solution is just to grin and bear it? Some tough guy you are!" she threw over her shoulder.

He walked the few paces over to her and grabbed her shoulder to turn her to face him. "For Christ's sake," he said, exasperatedly, "what the hell was that?"

She looked at him with accusing eyes. "Angry, Jack? Why don't you just push me against the wall again? I remember that helped us both out once before."

He dropped his hand, ashamed, and instead of moving away, chose to lean against the wall by her, his body shielding hers from prying eyes.

A few long moments passed. Barring the time at her desk, it was the closest they'd been for a long time.

"Sam…" Jack said, softly, almost imploringly.

She shook her head. "This isn't working Jack, I'm just too unhappy."

He sighed. "Me too… but I made a promise to my daughters."

"What about your promises to me, Jack?"

"They have to wait."

"How long?"

"When it's right."

Looking down at her feet, she shook her head again, in resignation. "Then just forget it –forget everything..."

He didn't respond.

She couldn't have said what she just did. How could either of them forget what they had? What they'd been through?

"Sam…" This time her name was barely a breath.

"I can't be with you, and yet you expect me to put my life on hold until the time is right, and it may never _be_ right, despite what you said." She knew what step-parents were like, and step-children –if she and Jack ever got that far.

"No," he quietly protested.

She pulled the phone –their phone- out of her pocket; she'd been carrying it around for days, wondering when she could give it to him. "Here, I'm tired of staring at it all night. Take it back."

Dumbly, blindly, he took it from her. "Sweetheart…" he whispered, reaching out the back of his other hand to her cheek.

She pulled her head away before he made contact. "Just give me up, Jack. You're letting them win and I'm tired of losing to your family all the time."

"No," Jack said emphatically this time, his hand now on her arm. "This is not the way this goes. I'm not having this happen, not again."

She looked at him almost beseechingly, before pulling away to snatch up the files from the table. He watched as the door closed behind her, then at the phone in his hand. It was like the time at _Lisi's_ -she'd left him alone once again.

He really didn't know what to do.

So he slammed his free hand against the wall.

Xx--

Vivian watched as Samantha blindly half-ran past her in the direction of the nearest Ladies. She was wondering if she should follow when Jack came storming around the corner.

He threw an angry, inquisitive look at her as he passed. She waited a few moments wondering what to do before running after him.

She tagged him on the elbow, asking the only question that came to mind, although it didn't look like it was going to be true. "Are you and Sam back together?"

Jack was now more confused than seething. "What... _What_?"

"We know you were... seeing each other, and we think that something broke you up... I was just wondering... Oh, Jesus Jack, I don't know what the hell to think anymore! I'm guessing you haven't exactly made up"

"Who's 'we'?" he demanded.

"Just Danny and I."

"But how..."

"We met James Alexander some time back, after your Hamptons thing- and then it just fell into place. Kind of… sort of. Then not long ago Sam said she'd broken up with James and… well…"

He was right; nothing was ever a damn secret around this place. "For your information, we _haven't_ broken up because we're hardly ever together, thanks to everything and everyone sticking their noses in. It's just… difficult between us right now…" he finished by way of hopeless explanation. He ran his hands through his hair, trying to think. _Fuck it_. "I can't be bothered with this," he muttered, walking away to the elevator and stabbing the down button, not wanting to endure anything like another 'garbage' talk from her, if that's what she was heading for.

Bewildered, Viv watched him leave, wondering where he was going. She thought about going to find Samantha, but changed her mind. She'd only make things worse.

It was time to go home.

Xx--

Looking up, the senior techie was surprised to be visited so late in the day by Jack, or anyone for that matter. "I wondered when you were finally going to make it down here for your proficiency test."

Jack shook his head. "Just give me a Glock and a few rounds."

"Okay, but first things first -could you dismantle and assemble this one for me-"

"You know I can do that in my sleep. Just give me the gun –I'm not here for the damn test."

"But you're way overdue-" the technician began top protest.

Snatching the gun, Jack went to the range, grabbing a pair of safety glasses and earmuffs on the way.

"Do you want to use this as part of your test?" the techie called out.

"Just keep the targets coming, give me more clips when I ask for them, and stay the hell out of my way, got it?"

"Yessir!" The technician knew when to let things be.

Jack stayed there for half an hour until his right arm and hand ached, getting the rage and frustration out of his system.

Xx--

Samantha dried her eyes and stared at herself in the mirror, all puffy and blotchy.

She was so tired of it all.

Splashing some water on her face, she blotted herself dry then, taking a deep breath, she went out, knowing what she needed to do.

Olczyk looked up as she entered his office with some files. "I'm just about to go-"

"Nothing to do with these," she said intimating the Carmichael files she had. He had an enquiring look on his face. "I want to take some leave."

He studied her face a moment before reaching a decision. "All right, just fill out the appropriate form and get Agent Malone to approve-"

"I don't know where he is," Samantha was only half lying; he was probably somewhere in the building, she just didn't know where and she didn't care right now, "and I need to leave tonight," she stated, forcing some urgency into her voice. Well, she was in a hurry, not to get where she was going; but just to get away. "It's a family thing."

Olczyk sat forward in his chair –the quicker he got through this the quicker he could get home, so he started to press some keys on his keyboard. "Okay," he began in a resigned tone, "how long are you wanting?" he asked, not unkindly.

"Two weeks at least, so 10 days. I've got a lot of time I haven't used up."

Looking through his glasses at the screen when Samantha's personnel file came up, Olczyk nodded. "So I see… and all this is okay with your team?"

"It'll have to be. We're not exactly being inundated," she said hypocritically, knowing it could change at any time, but even FBI agents needed vacations. They'd managed when Jack had been away after Maria's death, as they always had when they were one down.

"Hmm," said Olczyk, checking to see if any other leave had been scheduled in by the rest of the team, then he filled in a few lines and printed off a sheet, while Samantha waited impatiently. "This is not the way we do things Samantha, there are proper channels," he pointed out, meaning Jack.

"Yes, yes, it's all one big bureaucracy."

"For a reason... Are those dates correct -from tomorrow, right?"

Scanning the sheet, Samantha nodded. "Yes, thank you," and she signed her name, nearly stabbing the pen through the paper in her haste.

She really needed to get out of here.

"Just make sure you tell Jack what you're doing," Olczyk said, making a couple of copies and then handing two to her.

"Yes," she lied, already on her way out. She hesitated at the door, then turned. "I appreciate this, Alex –thank you."

"Just more warning next time, okay?" he smiled, starting the process of turning his PC off.

"It won't happen again," Samantha promised before she left.

Knowing where she was going hadn't taken long to decide. It was the one place she'd always run away from and now it was the first place she wanted to run back to.

Life was funny like that sometimes.

There was no-one in the bull pen when she got back and after putting a copy of the form on Jack's desk, she went to her own desk. She sent a quick email around to let the others know about her time off, and then she phoned her mother.

Xx--

_The next morning._

"Where's Sam?" Jack asked bluntly.

"Ah, on vacation…?" said Martin, the only one in the bull pen, his tone making it sound like the answer to a trick question he wasn't expecting and that Jack already knew the answer.

"How do you know this and not me?" The puzzlement on Jack's face was real enough.

Pointing to his own PC, Martin gave a baffled look in return. "Because there's an email from Samantha -I take it you haven't read it yet."

Surly, Jack strode back to his office and after looking through the paper chase on his desk while his PC started, he came across the leave form, then he read the email. Gritting his teeth he grabbed the phone and hit the appropriate speed dial. "Alex, what the hell is going on with Agent Spa-"

"Agent Spade asked late yesterday, said she needed to get away, and I approved her leave," Olczyk informed Jack. Facts were facts.

"She didn't consult me."

"You know, I now suspect that was on purpose," Olczyk pointed out, chucking his pen down on the desk, wondering where Jack was planning on taking this. _That damn Section 23 causes more problems than anything else. It's like it was made just to be continually tested and broken…_

Jack rubbed his brow, feeling it had all gotten away from him and he was just too late. "Okay, that's fine," he said in a weary voice.

"That's it?" Olczyk was caught out, ready for further grilling.

"Yes, thanks Alex," and he hung up.

Jack stared at his FBI screensaver. Thinking rapidly but calmly, he wondered what the hell Samantha was up to.

He knew he shouldn't be surprised at all and he couldn't blame her for wanting to get away.

It was no doubt highly unethical, and she'd probably kill him, but he knew she wouldn't be sitting at home for a couple of weeks. That would be too easy and he doubted she was running away secretly because she'd know he'd find her; one of the perks of being in the MPU was that they were very good at their jobs.

As a concerned boss, he phoned her home anyway, but the answer machine clicked on after a few rings. He wasn't going to waste his time there; there would be a trail as she had nothing to hide, so he got into his computer. He found her flight and where she was going within minutes. She'd be landing in Milwaukee's General Mitchell airport in 20 minutes and then -he surmised- on to Kenosha.

_Ah, no mystery there then._

Satisfied, Jack logged off those screens and, after he had filed Samantha's leave form away in the appropriate folder, he thought he should look into the new, if sparse, information they'd got from the Carmichael case.

He had work to do.

Xx--

To Be Continued.


	24. There's No Place

**A/N:** Thanks to Mariel for finding the time to beta, as she's been a busy thing lately, so I'm grateful for her input. Any mistakes are mine from fiddling afterwards too much.

I'm consciously shadowing things from the show, as it is an AU, so if you read something and think it's from the show -like the 'You're a doll' bit from the last chapter, then yes, you're right -it's a conscious thing.

**Disclaimer:** CBS still suck and I hope their new season shows fail miserably. At least through fanfic, fanvids and fanart we know how to treat their characters, as the network sure as hell didn't. Me, still bitter? Oh yes...

* * *

**Chapter 22**

**There's No Place**

Xx--

Patricia Spade looked over at her daughter as they pulled out of the airport parking lot. "I have to say that this is a nice surprise."

Samantha tucked some change away in her purse after paying for her mother's parking. "Sorry about the short notice."

"I'm glad you didn't fly out last night. I don't like driving at night so much."

"I could have gotten a taxi this morning."

Patricia waved her hand as she halted at a stop sign and chuckled. "Nonsense! It's only 50 minutes away and we can get some groceries on the way back."

Samantha stared out the passenger window. "Milwaukee's changed," she said, without any surprise in her voice.

"Huh, and we haven't even got to the freeway. You might not recognize Kenosha then. It's been a while since you visited."

"Oh, you know how it goes..." Samantha murmured, trailing off.

Actually, she was sitting there more than a little stunned at how quickly everything had transpired since the last evening.

The last fight with Jack.

Then she had practically forced Olczyk into giving her time off. _Jesus, and Jack said he knew about us…_ she thought, amazed, _and there I was asking Olczyk for leave and it never even crossed my mind what was going through _his_ head._

Jack really should have told her about Olczyk knowing earlier, but that was Jack again, keeping stuff from her. Perhaps it was a good thing that it hadn't been uppermost in her mind when she'd been getting her leave organized.

It had been that old, desperate need to get away –this time from Jack, from work and from her New York life, such that it was.

But mostly, it had been a desperate need to get away from Jack, she had to admit painfully.

And then there had been the subtle shock of being back in Wisconsin, seeing her mother in the flesh for the first time in years, waiting for her at the airport this morning, greeting her with a warm hug that was undoubtedly heartfelt.

It was all a nice change, like a clichéd breath of fresh Wisconsin air.

Absently running her finger along the window as she looked out at the passing scenery, Samantha wondered if Jack would follow her, and then no doubt cause yet another scene, or if he'd perhaps stay away, leaving her alone. Deciding not to think about it as she wasn't happy about either option, she focussed back on her mother who was talking. "Sorry?"

"I said, Emily doesn't visit either. She did send me some wonderful aromatherapy oils to try the other day, which was lovely. Have you seen her and Andrew recently? She hasn't mentioned you when she phones."

"No, not for awhile..." _Like never actually._

"But she's only in Connecticut, that's not far from you at all."

"Well-"

"Compared to how far away I am from you both."

"We're both busy doing our own thing." One day she might even meet her brother-in-law, but she wasn't planning to. It would mean talking to her sister.

"Uh-huh... And I had a nice surprise the other day," Patricia said blithely, "I bumped into his parents."

Samantha knew exactly whom she meant. "Mom…" _Here we go, that didn't take long._

"Don't you want to know how he's doing?" her mother prodded.

"No. You know I don't."

"Living in Peoria, working for that big CAT company and has _three_ children they said. Imagine that!" Patricia happily carried on.

"Mom!"

"He's very big in tractors, it seems. I just thought you'd like to know."

"Well, you were wrong."

"Fine, then. At least _I _was interested in my former son-in-law's whereabouts."

"Just leave it, please..." Then, feeling she should make up for her abruptness, "Thanks for your concern, anyway. And by the way, when we get the groceries, I need to get some chocolate."

"Okay, but I do have some Hershey's at home."

"I need _real_ chocolate." _And lots of it._

"Ah, I get you…" Patricia said, looking sideways at her daughter, knowing when and why chocolate was needed. "So, have you got a boyfriend at the moment?" she asked, zeroing in with deadly maternal accuracy.

Not wanting to answer, Samantha knew she'd have to say something or never hear the end of it. "Yes... I mean no... Oh, I just don't know..."

Her mother also knew when to leave it. "That's okay…Well, it's lovely having you to stay. I've got some time off from the garden centre."

"Don't change your busy schedule for me." Samantha had been ticking off the usual topics her mother raised; that seemed to be about it. She was fairly safe from any further cross-examining, for now.

"I'd hardly call it busy these days," said the former social butterfly, "time's caught up with all of us... But I keep myself occupied and having time to spend with you is going to be fun." She didn't see her daughter roll her eyes at that. "We can watch some old movies together, hang out and all that."

"Just no-"

"Yes, yes, no Bogart, I get it. I've got lots of classics to choose from... How long are you staying again?"

"About two weeks, if that's okay," Samantha said, looking out the window again and drinking in the clear morning light.

_If I don't go crazy before then_.

Xx--

Jack glanced at his watch as he returned to the kitchen. The girls were finally asleep and he'd taken the scrap of paper out of his pocket yet again and stared at it, yet again. The paper had Patricia Spade's home phone number on it and he had placed it on the bench, next to the phone. He stared at the two objects, before taking a swig of the glass of Jameson's he'd been nursing. He'd then decided to pace pointlessly around the kitchen….again.

It was after 10pm, so naturally it was an hour earlier in Wisconsin.

It really had been a shit of a day at work and he'd truthfully admitted to himself that he really wasn't happy with her gone. Her emotional distance was one thing, her physical distance was another.

However glancing constantly at the paper and drinking wasn't going to solve his problem.

He could phone Samantha there, knowing she would still be up, and not be disturbed by the girls.

Of course, he could have phoned Samantha any night after the girls had gone to bed, ever since they'd been back. But he hadn't as the girls had made a point of him not phoning her, and he wondered if it would all be too late to make a concerted effort now.

He cursed himself for being gutless and, as usual, not really knowing what he would say to her.

No wonder she was perpetually angry at him these days.

No wonder she'd gone away, either.

Jack picked up the paper and put it carefully back into his wallet, knocked back the rest of his whiskey, and left the kitchen, turning off the light before he went.

At least he could go to bed and think about her without any problems -or guilt.

Xx—

"I call it _withdrawn_," Vivian said, as she drove with Danny to Brooklyn.

"It's scary," Danny said, rapidly scanning through the paperwork they had brought with them. "I don't think I've ever seen him quite like this; I've never seen him quite so….blank."

"It's like when Maria took the kids to Chicago and he stayed."

"Yeah, that was real fun for all us, especially you," Danny pointed out, as he dropped a couple of pages at his feet.

"For entirely different reasons… I hate it when he's like this. He _knows_ she's coming back in a couple of weeks, and he's been like this for two days now. We've got Hanna and Kate coming over on Sunday; maybe he'll be a bit better then." Gripping the steering wheel firmly, she certainly hoped so.

Retrieving the sheets, Danny busied himself with trying to put them in the order they had once been in. "Maybe he just didn't realize how much he… You know -all that heavy romantic stuff." Giving up, he stashed the pages back in randomly.

"That you avoid?"

"I do my own thing in my own way."

"I don't know what Elena sees in you," Vivian said, a sly smile playing on her lips. She still hadn't gotten any information out of him. At least it was a pleasant diversion from Jack's woes.

"Oh, you'd be surprised."

Vivian's smile turned into a grin. "Somehow, I don't think so."

Xx--

It took Patricia two and a half days to say something. Samantha decided that it must be a record for her; she would never usually wait that long. _She must be out of practice_.

"Are you going to get dressed?" Patricia demanded as she came over to the living room from the kitchen. "For goodness sake, go and have a shower and put on some make-up. You look like a fright."

"I don't want to do anything Mom, just leave it."

Patricia tsked as she bustled around her daughter, who was lying on the couch, remote in hand. "Okay, I have an idea," she announced, coming to a standstill in front of Samantha, blocking her view of the TV. "I thought we'd go into town tomorrow for the Sunday markets, and then the day after I thought perhaps a nice trip to Chicago. We can spend time looking at the shops and have lunch at _Bob Chin's_. We can take my friend Maryanne, she'd like the trip, and the crab legs."

Samantha waved her away, and tried to look around her to the screen. "No, you both go, I'll stay here."

Patricia stared down at her daughter with an exasperated expression. "Then why _are_ you here? You just drop by at short notice and expect to spend the time lazing around the house doing nothing?"

"Yes, that's precisely what I intend to do," Samantha said petulantly. "I'm on vacation."

"Then why didn't you go somewhere like the Bahamas, or Hawaii? Why come here? ...You could have taken the job at the local FBI office in town, or in Milwaukee but no, you _had_ to go for New York," she stated, reproach clear in her tone.

Samantha was quiet. It wasn't the first time her mother had brought up an old, time-worn argument. She could never understand Samantha's need to escape this small town and Samantha couldn't even fully explain her own need to suddenly return.

But Patricia wasn't finished. "You don't want to talk to me about anything –that's nothing new, but for heaven's sake, just let me enjoy doing something with you!"

Looking up at her mother's concerned face, Samantha inwardly sighed, knowing she had a point and lazing around the house was beginning to pall anyway. "Okay."

"Is that a yes?"

"Yes. I think a wander into town and then a Chicago thing would be nice."

Patricia clapped her hands together. "We'll have a fun time! I'll call Maryanne right now and arrange it. She's got a new convertible BMW that she's itching to take for a long ride."

"Sounds good," Samantha conceded. She wondered what she was letting herself into.

_This is going to seem like a lot longer than a couple of weeks… _

Xx—

Sunday morning and Vivian was happy to see Kate and Hanna; Reggie this time seemed less so, but Vivian told Jack not to be surprised at that, he being a bit older and a male.

"Don't worry about him, he'll come around, especially since the girls are so good at video games," she said, waving it off.

"Hanna certainly has no problem there, that's for sure." Jack said, starting to make the motions of leaving Vivian's apartment. Hanna and Kate had done nothing but play video games yesterday, and Jack hadn't really cared as he'd occupied himself with the household chores.

"You don't want to stay around for a bit?" Vivian was hoping he might chat to Marcus for a change, do some male bonding or something.

"No, it's okay, I have some things to do**."**

Vivian was going to ask him; he knew she would because he knew what she was like and he really didn't want to be around when she-

"Have you heard from Sam?"

_Damn._

He hadn't even made it to the door. "No, and I don't really expect to," he said honestly.

"Where is she, do you know?"

_Of course I do_. "Somewhere, enjoying her time off." _And her self-imposed time-out._

"Mm," Vivian was thoughtful. Jack's general demeanor in Samantha's absence was still a concern to her and she really wanted him to do something to get over it. Samantha had only been gone since Thursday; the next week and a half loomed like a rumbling storm waiting to happen.

"Well?" he challenged.

"What?" she threw innocently back, thinking he was still being prickly and perhaps it was about time she needn't bother. Danny had already been muttering that it was time they left well enough alone.

Jack wasn't in the mood to stay. "Thank you both and I'll be back at the pick-up time," he said, finally on his way out. He hadn't seen his father for a while and he'd decided to make up for the lack of time and attention in person.

Xx—

The next afternoon, a letter arrived and sat waiting on Jack's desk. No stamps were involved as it was one of those things that get passed from person to another person until it reached its destination. Jack opened it and read. Thank you letters from cases were rare and indeed often treasured, and this one was from Garrison Mitchell –which wouldn't be his name anymore due to a new identity for the family- expressing his thanks to the team, specifically Samantha and Martin as they were there at Renee's rescue, and there was special appreciation for Jack in the way a son might praise a father –which Jack had no problem with. Smiling to himself as he carefully folded up the letter, Jack put it back in the envelope. A strong, thoughtful young man. Jack hoped he'd always stayed that way and it was gratifying to hear the family was doing well. Greg Carmichael was as elusive as ever –even after the latest information- but Jack knew that wherever Renee's family was, he wouldn't find them; there was no trail to latch on to this time.

Placing the letter in his desk drawer, he'd remember to show it to the team later. He was sure Samantha would like to know about it, but it was something else that would have to wait until she was back.

He looked at his desk calendar.

Another day closer to her return.

Xx—

Samantha was doing a small stretch outside when her mother appeared. "You know you can't jog or run well enough to keep up with me, Mom," she pointed out.

Patricia straightened her baseball cap. "I know that, it was painfully obvious the other day when I went with you. No, I thought this time I would just walk it and then when you come back, I'll turn around and waddle back, if you want to join me as a cool down."

"You're sure." Samantha changed legs to stretch her other calf muscle. Her mother's talk and suggestions had done some good. The markets and Chicago trip had been unexpectedly pleasant. Maryanne had been a lively companion, chatting happily with Patricia while Samantha had sat in the backseat. When they'd returned, Samantha had decided to get back into her running to burn some chocolate off.

Patricia nodded. "It's fun to join you."

"I guess so." Samantha was now both amused and touched by her mother's wanting to do things together, and much to her own surprise, she'd found that she'd been enjoying herself too. It was probably too good to last, so she was making the effort to make the most of it.

Patricia adjusted her sunglasses, a determined look on her face. "We could also go for a walk in one of the woods around here sometime."

Certain how she felt about that, Samantha shook her head. "Ah no thanks, not a fan of the woods. We could go by the river instead. I'd prefer that."

"That would be fine too." Patricia thought Samantha might be over her local woods aversion after all these years. She could never understand why.

Xx--

"Hey, the Professor called and they want you back on the island, pronto."

Jack looked up to his office doorway. "Edward, still masticating in public I see," he commented, although he wasn't really in the mood.

"Still better than the alternative I think, Gilligan." Campbell's expression was unreasonably cheery.

Jack was silent, waiting for the reason for his visit.

Campbell's face fell. "O-kay, business it is then, but I expected more from you -and the alternative I was talking about _was_ smoking, you know."

"Ed…" Jack just wasn't into any banter.

"All right, all right, no games," Ed said, coming in to stand in front of Jack's desk. "I think I have something that may interest you. You remember our pseudo-kung fu-drug making friends from the warehouse?"

"I think my back still does."

"Well, they gave us some tip-offs and we've been following them up, and eventually one thing has led to another and..." he held up an evidence bag, "look what I found, inside an old car magazine of all things during a search." He lightly threw the bag in front of Jack, with justifiable self-satisfaction on his face. "Anyone you recognise?"

Frowning and intrigued, Jack picked up the bag. It had a photo of a young couple, a self-portrait. "It's Joyelle McCaffrey… Where did you get this -and who's the guy?" he asked, turning the bag over to look at the back of the picture: _Me + Joy. _"Do we know who he is?"

"Oh yes, and there's more – he's actually one of our guys' cousins plus it was his subscription –Trent Bachmann. No record, but a hanger-on it seems."

A new lead, at last.

Suddenly alive and grinning the grin of someone finding the scent again, Jack jumped up out of his chair. "I really could kiss you for this."

Ed grimaced. "No way –I've heard about you, way too much tongue," he joked, straight-faced.

"Yeah, but it's better than what's written about you in the Ladies."

"And how would _you_ know, eh Jack? Anyway, I'd like your help on this; all the stuff we've got is in my section."

Black mood vanished, Jack gladly followed Campbell out to the corridor.

Campbell glanced at the bull pen. "Where's that blonde agent of yours? I wouldn't mind inviting her along as well."

"On vacation," Jack said concisely, as they walked.

"Shame, maybe next time."

"I seem to remember that you're a married man."

"So were you once, I heard," Campbell remarked, without malice, "and anyway, I like to look as much as the next guy and even I can be shallow…"

Wanting to move on from the conversation and any Samantha talk, Jack looked at the photo again. "Tell me more how far you've got."

"I hope you've got some time up your sleeve and your guys can manage," Campbell said, "there's a bit to cover."

Xx--

Campbell and his team had been focussing on three names at the top of their drug gang pyramid, and over the next few days, Jack juggled helping them and his own team. It kept him busy and he relished the opportunity to work with a different division, plus the distraction from thinking about Samantha was more than welcome. He accompanied Campbell as they paid visits to the seemingly untouchable bosses who had no idea about Trent or Joyelle, but it was a fourth name that he felt they should investigate more; the gang's supposed money man, Lance Melco.

"He's invulnerable. Has everything sewed up tighter than a fish's ass," Campbell pointed out. "He lives in a huge house, no family and it's immaculate -except for his office, which I have to say is a total disaster zone."

Jack was thoughtful. "A place of secrets. No one allowed in but him."

"Considering how good and clean his book-keeping, files and accounts were, I couldn't figure the little weasel out. He must have staff to take care of him; however I didn't see anyone the several times we were there."

"Melco was a name that Trent's cousin, Van Tarasov, gave you."

"Practically top of the list, however I can't see how Melco could be connected to Joyelle or Bachmann."

"I think we should go see this Van in his cell, then re-visit Melco."

"Are you sure? He's the apprentice kick-boxing grasshopper that got you."

Jack shot Campbell a dry look. "I think, _sensei, _that I will survive."

Xx--

It transpired that Trent had accompanied Van once when Van had some cash to drop off at Melco's house, September the year before last.

"And Trent got a job there as a pool boy?" Jack asked, pulling up a chair as Campbell watched from outside. "That time of year?"

Van leaned back in his own chair, nodding. "It's a huge place; he has an indoor as well as an outdoor pool and he just wanted Trent on a part-time basis at first. Yeah, I think Melco liked him, _a lot_,if you know what I'm saying. Offered him that job two minutes after he met him, cash in hand and all that. I felt a bit put out, but I don't think I was his 'type'."

"When did Trent go missing?"

"Ah… about February last year."

"No-one reported it or filed a missing person's report?" Jack noted that it was about the same time Joyelle disappeared.

"Trent's one of those that liked to get away from home time to time and I doubt his parents noticed, they were always too busy drinking and fighting. They thought Trent was more trouble than he was worth and with him gone again there was always one less thing to worry about. All our parents are pretty fucked in the parenting department. The guys and I were used to him coming and going. He was never part of the gang."

"He's not a blood relative." Jack wanted to double check.

"No, a cousin by marriage."

"Did you know Joyelle?"

"I knew there was some girl Trent liked but he felt she was too good for him. I remember you asked us about her when you brought us in but the name still doesn't mean a thing."

"You're still sure of that."

"That's what I'm still saying. He might have been seeing her more than he let on. Not the cleverest guy I knew, but cool to have around." He then looked from Jack to the clock on the wall. "That's all I got, are we done? I expect to get solitary for talking to you guys." It meant he was kept away from the other prisoners, which he liked.

"If that's want you want, it's a deal," Jack said, nodding to the guard to take Tarasov away.

Rejoining Campbell, Jack handed him his notes as they left. "This definitely has something to do with Melco, I can feel it."

"Good, I've been itching to get my hands on the little rat-bastard trumped-up banker once and for all."

"Can you get a warrant?" asked Jack, as they signed out.

Campbell nodded. "Yes, last time it only covered his office. Finding probable cause this time is going to be tricky."

Jack didn't doubt Campbell's powers of persuasion for a second. "Sweet talk a judge, we're going to need one for the whole house and grounds, as soon as possible."

Xx--

Later, Jack and Campbell stood on the lawn outside Melco's mansion, watching the police and various FBI clean up crews buzzing around. As they'd been free, Jack had also called in an interested Vivian, Danny, and Martin to work with Campbell's team."The more the merrier," Jack quipped when he'd told them about the newer developments in the case. Danny had turned to Vivian and whispered: "Look at him; that's all he needed –a big distraction."

"Cross your fingers we can come up with something else for next week. We've still got a few days to survive after the weekend," Vivian had murmured back.

Now it was just Jack and Campbell, everyone else having let go as it was all done and dusted. Joyelle and Trent had been taken away to be medically examined and reunited with their families, while Melco had been cuffed and led away. It had all ended remarkably fast.

"Good job, 007," Jack commented.

Campbell absently pulled at the tight skin on his jaw. "Oh, why thank you, sir."

"That was pretty good for Roger Moore."

"I meant it to be Sean Connery," Campbell frowned at Jack.

Jack couldn't resist a smirk. "I know."

Campbell then slapped Jack genially on the back. "We did _good_."

"We certainly did." They'd nailed a bad guy –or rather 'one sick, sack of shit' as Campbell termed him, saved two young people and made the money side of a large gang dry up –for now. An excellent strike rate and the Bureau would be very pleased.

Some time back, Trent had brought Joyelle over to Melco's to proudly show her where he worked. It seemed handsome, young men weren't the only thing that Melco liked; pretty, young women also. He'd carefully hatched a plan and put it into action by drugging and -simply put- enslaving the couple. They'd been sex toys, for Melco's voyeuristic whims, and housekeepers combined, living in comfortable rooms on either side of Melco's bedroom. Their enslavement was complete with a home detention-style ankle bracelet each –Melco had told them he could track their every movement- and by using threats over what would happen to their families if they escaped, they'd submitted. Mental torture more than anything else had kept them imprisoned for all that time, until Trent had managed to slip a deliveryman a gold dress ring, which he'd once given Joyelle, and a note about the drug operation at the warehouse he'd overheard about. He'd figured Joyelle's disappearance would mean more than his own and that hopefully the tip off would lead them back to Melco –some day.

Campbell was now ferreting around in his jacket pockets. Finding what he was looking for he held out, with a triumphant smile, a rather ragged cigarette. "God, I need this." He'd even located a slim book of matches in his jacket's recesses.

Jack, somehow unsurprised at Campbell's hidden treasure, tutted. "Oh come _on_ Ed, if the case had ended badly I'd understand but…"

"It's because I'm in such a good mood that I deserve it. I want to prolong the satisfaction. Nothing worse than a misery cigarette." He lit the shabby cigarette and drew a deep breath. "Oh, ye-es…" He then exhaled the smoke, coughing a little. "Je-sus, that is beyond good…"

Shaking his head, Jack moved out of the direction of the smoke. "Acupuncture next?"

Campbell shrugged in an acquiescent way. "Why not? Nothing else has worked…" He then consulted his watch. "Okay, we're due at my monster-in-law's for the weekly Friday night dinner, and looks like I'll actually be on time for a change without having to invent an excuse."

"I'll trade you my mother-in-law for yours." _In a nanosecond, sight unseen_.

"Let me think on it…" Finding his car keys in another pocket, Campbell held out a hand. "So, I'll catch you later, Superman. It's been fun."

Jack warmly shook his hand. "It has -and I've been informed that I'm Batman, actually."

"Then I'll be Superman."

"Taken by Danny Taylor."

"That skinny guy of yours? Then who can I be?"

Jack didn't have to think. "How about Wonder Woman?"

"And screw _you_, Malone!" Campbell laughed and shaking his head as he left.

Smiling to himself as Campbell walked away, Jack knew this would be one report he'd be happy to write up. He decided he might as well head back to the Bureau to start it, and enjoy putting Joyelle's case in the solved pile.

Of course, there was one in his team who wouldn't know what had happened, however he knew that Samantha would be pleased about what had happened. She'd identified with the younger woman during the initial case, but then she often did.

She'd find out eventually, when she was back, late next week.

Chewing the inside of his cheek as he thought, Jack watched the scene wrap up around him in the early evening light and then he walked slowly to his car in thought.

He should be happier, especially at the end of a case that had been long overdue to be solved. He certainly felt better, that was certain.

But not having Samantha around was like a big gaping hole, a nothingness that seemed to accompany him, something that his job or family life just couldn't fit into neatly.

He wanted his Sam back so she could fill it again.

Xx--

_Saturday morning._

Samantha and her mother headed inside for a break after being around the back of the house weeding in the shade.

"Is that it?" asked Samantha. "We've done a lot," she said, wondering how her mother could have gardening as a job as well as a hobby. Maybe she was masochistic.

"It's getting hot so I think that should do it for now." Patricia agreed, taking off her gardening gloves.

"I'll go wash up then," Samantha said, leaving just as the phone rang. Somehow she'd managed to get dirt all over her, yet her mother was untouched; Samantha did not possess her mother's gardening gene.

"Use the old towels!" Patricia called after her, just as she picked up the phone. She listened to the caller for a couple of minutes as she walked to her front window and peered out towards the far end of her driveway. She then thanked her friend and hung up the phone. Thinking while she washed her hands in the kitchen sink, she had made a decision while she dried them and went to the front door.

"Sam? I'm just going back out to the garden for a moment," she called out.

"O-kay," Samantha said, in the tired tone of someone who's heard it all before.

_Gardeners __-they just can't stop themselves._

Xx--

Jack watched the woman walking towards and shifted his position as he leaned against the car. She stopped a few feet away from him, put one hand up to shield her eyes in the sun and the other perched on her hip. Her lips were pursed and brow furrowed; she didn't look too much like Samantha but the expression was definitely familiar. He stopped throwing pieces of stone onto the road wayside.

"A friend of mine said you've been sitting out here all morning," she said, by way of introduction.

"Then you have a good neighborhood watch system going." She was certainly sizing him up, so he decided to flash his badge. "Jack Malone, FBI." His jeans and casual shirt had probably suggested otherwise.

Peering at it, Patricia nodded, satisfied. "Well, I know I'm not in trouble for anything and we haven't had any alien sightings lately, so it has to lead me to the usual conclusion: something to do with Sam?" she asked, as direct as her offspring could be.

"I would say so. I'm her boss."

"Yes, I thought the name was familiar."

Jack didn't know how much she knew about him, if anything. "She may have mentioned me from time to time."

"Hmm..." She knew she wasn't slow and her daughter's New York boss wouldn't just turn up on a Saturday morning out of the blue to ask where his stapler was.

Not having any real idea what she was thinking, Jack just smiled benignly at her.

"I can't really say that Sam has told me anything about her personal life in years… You're why she came back here?"

Not wanting to sound egotistical or the bad guy, Jack shrugged. "I would say so..."

Patricia nodded. "Well, it makes sense. She always used to run away when things got tough, no reason for that to have changed. I thought she might be foolish over some man. There's only so much chocolate and moping about that even she can handle. When did you arrive?"

"I flew in last night and booked into a motel. I'm there for a couple of nights." He'd left his black suit there, as well as his wedding ring and chain. He'd even wondered that perhaps the jewelry would be stolen and he wouldn't have to worry about it anymore.

Footsteps crunching on the driveway gravel heralded Samantha's arrival. She stopped when she rounded the corner and saw him. "Jack…" she said, shocked, as she had been looking for her mother. "What the hell are you doing here?" she then demanded, wasting no time. Patricia took a few steps back, taking herself out of what could be trouble.

Jack stayed where he was, keeping his face straight at the joy of seeing her. He had thought this might be his reception. "If you want, you can accuse me of stalking you this time, as it's blatantly true."

"I should."

"It's not as if you even tried to cover your tracks."

"I wasn't trying to."

"Okay."

"I'm not hiding from anyone –I'm on vacation."

"That's fine."

"But I wasn't exactly expecting you to bother to come looking for me either. _How__ever _did you find the time?" Her tone was cutting.

Jack winced at that. "I arranged things."

It had been very rushed and spur of the moment, and had happened last evening as he was sitting in his office beginning the report on Joyelle's case. Garrison Mitchell's letter had been passed around the team and had made its way back to Jack's desk. He'd stared at it for some time before hurrying through the report.

He had to do something, something that a phone call wouldn't have managed.

Shaking himself out of his brooding state that was threatening to return, he'd decided to act upon what he really wanted to do -and that was to see Samantha. A search for a flight on the net was successful. Big favors of Stevie and her parents -bigger than usual- had been asked that night and he'd said to them and the girls that he was urgently needed to get out of town on a case.

A shameful lie, but necessary he'd reasoned.

He hadn't even stopped to change when he'd been at home; instead he'd thrown some things in a hold all and headed straight for La Guardia.

He wasn't proud of the ways and means he'd done it, but here he was, in Kenosha, and Samantha hadn't thrown anything at him.

Yet.

Samantha's eyebrows were raised in disbelief. "You can arrange to come all the way out here, yet you can't even get an evening off to be with me? Or phone me? You have a strange sense of priorities."

Jack could have tried a comeback at her but it might have made things worse, so he kept quiet.

Continuing to glare at him, she wasn't quite sure if she was thrilled to see him, or angry –anger was winning as she felt like she was being checked up on, like a wayward teen. She just wanted to vent.

"I wanted to see how you were," he offered.

"I'm touched, but you're too damn late for this sort of thing."

Patricia walked towards them. "For goodness sake Sammie, invite the poor man inside. Where are your manners?"

"Just leave, Jack," Samantha flung at him, before turning around and leaving them standing there to walk back up the drive.

There was a pause as they watched her leave. Patricia smiled in a puzzled way at Jack. "You certainly seem to know my daughter quite well."

Jack nodded. "Very well, I'd say, Mrs. Spade."

"Well, you'd have to be the first man for a long time who could honestly say that –and please, call me Pat. Are you planning on being out here for long?" she asked, indicating the car, knowing that he wasn't going to leave just because her daughter told him to.

"As long as it takes… Well, I've got until late tomorrow afternoon actually and then I really must get back."

"Okay then...You got enough coffee? Something to eat?"

"All taken care of, thank you... Pat," he added, using her name like some strange new language.

"And if you need to use the bathroom-"

"It's fine, but thank you," said Jack. Years of stakeouts and surveillance had given him a camel's capacity to store liquid.

Patricia smiled again, sympathetically this time. "I'll be going then."

As she walked away, Jack went back to his leaning against the passenger door and this time, decided to count passing cars.

He had time to kill.

Xx—

Patricia found Samantha pacing in the house. "Well?" she asked, going to the fruit bowl for something to eat.

"Well what?" Samantha mumbled back.

"Are you going to leave him out there?" Patricia asked, sorting through the apples to find one that suited her, purposefully not looking at Samantha.

"Yes! That's what he wants…"

"Okay." Amazing how a parent could put so much meaning into one word.

Not wanting to have any further conversation, even a minimal one with her mother, Samantha -giving into the urge to get away again- grabbed the car keys off the kitchen bench and went out, slamming the door behind her. Then Patricia heard her bang the car door as well.

Jack watched as a car pulled out of the driveway and then watched as it sped away.

Tailing her would not be the best thing to do at all, he concluded.

Xx—

TBC.


	25. In Wisconsin

**A/N**: My heartfelt thanks to Mariel, my beta, who knows a writer's mind, I'd be lost without her...

Since my last update I've been fortunate enough to meet the wonderful Anthony LaPaglia, Jack Malone himself. Gosh... and gorgeous does not even _begin_ to describe him, really... Certainly helped/helps with the writing, I must say!

**Disclaimer**: CBS are still a bunch of toads, and by the look of it, their new season sucks. I will not be tuning in. They still own WAT, and the characters are theirs, even though they don't deserve them.

Nearly forgot, this chapter is M rated.

ETA: I've fixed a few typos since I posted this, so sorry about that folks.

* * *

Chapter 23

In Wisconsin

Xx--

Was it actually a bad thing, to have Jack in Kenosha?

Samantha was still a little impressed he'd come all this way to see her - but as usual, she was of two minds about it.

She wouldn't be impressed if he were going to get all possessive, but there had been no signs of that in the short conversation they'd had out by the road, one-sided as it admittedly was.

She'd left New York on her own terms, and his coming here made her feel as though he'd intruded on her in some way. Of course, she'd been _thinking_ of him - in between her mother's bursts of keeping her busy - but the initial thought that he might follow her had been shoved further and further into the back of her mind as each day had passed.

With her brain going at one hundred miles an hour, she wandered aimlessly through a small food market, paying no attention to the things she was placing in her basket. One thing she knew for sure: she couldn't hide from him this time.

Over an hour later, Samantha pulled up into her mother's driveway. Jack's car sat where she'd last seen it, but he was nowhere to be seen. The house was quiet when she went inside. Scanning the living room before putting down her bag of groceries in the kitchen, she turned her attention to the back yard. With the house obviously empty, she wasn't surprised to find Jack and Patricia sitting in deckchairs on the grass.

Her mother's meddling idea, no doubt.

"What are you doing?" Samantha asked in resigned tone.

"Drinking some of your mother's fine iced tea," Jack said, raising the glass as proof.

That was blatantly obvious -but she couldn't make sense of it. "What?"

"It's very nice out here."

Between his placid face and her mother's knowing look, annoyance crept in. "I see - this is the old thing where you charm my mom into liking you, maybe flirt with her a bit, and then the two of you gang up on me -am I right?"

Neither Patricia nor Jack had even thought of that -they had been talking about general Wisconsin things, movies and the weather, while keeping an eye on some grey clouds that had meandered across the sky.

Jack decided to take another sip from his glass and looked meaningfully over at Patricia. "I have to say, Pat, this iced tea is the best I've ever tasted." His tone was exaggerated and ingratiating.

Picking up on it immediately, Patricia responded in a syrupy voice, "Why, thank you Jack! I can rustle you up some peach cobbler to go with it, if you'd like."

Jack's eyes widened slightly. Dropping the act, a nostalgic look appeared on his face. "You know, I haven't had homemade peach cobbler for _years_."

"Oh, shut up both of you," Samantha grumped. She turned and stomped back to the house. This was _not_ how things were meant to be.

After watching Samantha leave, Patricia finished up her tea and then eased herself up out of her chair. "I'm going to do some more gardening while it's a bit overcast. You stay there," she said, waving her hand airily at him, "enjoy the afternoon."

Jack, however, rose as well. Reaching over to pick up her empty glass, he looked towards the backdoor of the house. "I think I'll go inside."

Patricia let out a laugh. "Your funeral," she said. Shaking her head in amusement, she turned towards her flowerbeds.

Xx—

Jack found Samantha putting her store-bought things away in the kitchen. "Can I help?" he asked, putting the glasses in the sink.

Trying to ignore the space he was taking up in the kitchen, she purposefully carried on.

"Look, just tell me you want me to leave and I'll go," he said, not wanting to be an aggravation any longer.

That stopped her a moment.

Of course she didn't want him to leave.

As she put the milk in the fridge, she paused. "I really don't know what I want right now." It may have been the most honest thing she'd said or thought the entire day.

"All right." Jack took a step towards her. "I thought you might like to read this," he said, taking a letter out of his pocket.

She stared at his hand as she closed the fridge door. "You came all this way to deliver that?"

"It's a thank you letter from Garrison Mitchell, and it seemed like another good excuse… We also solved the Joyelle McCaffrey case, by the way."

That stopped her again. "Really -alive?"

Nodding, he smiled, his eyes tender as he gazed at her. "Plus her boyfriend, Trent Bachmann, as an added bonus."

"That's great news, although he doesn't sound familiar," Samantha said, moving to the sink.

"It's a long story." He placed the letter on the counter and stepped back. "Anyway, I'll be in the car. Come and tell me what you want me to do when you're ready."

As a further refuge from looking at him, she had crouched down to rifle around under the sink. At his words, she stilled. Speaking towards the open cupboard, she asked hesitantly, "Just like that?"

He couldn't see her face, only the top of her head. "Just like that," he said quietly.

She heard him walk away and gently close the door behind him

Xx—

Patricia looked up to see Jack walk dejectedly down the driveway. As she pulled out a stubborn weed, she wondered –not for the first time- what it was with Samantha and her men. At least one good thing, she noted, was that they weren't _boys_ anymore. Jack seemed pleasant enough, but she'd only spent a short time with him and she was wary about jumping to any conclusions. At least there hadn't been any shouting or yelling when he was in the house with Samantha, which was a good thing. As she tossed the weed onto a growing pile, Patricia watched as Jack turned, took several paces backwards as he looked towards the house, then, his hands deep in his pockets, turn once more to continue his way down the driveway. He was obviously conflicted about something, she thought. Turning her attention back to the garden, she decided to keep her nose out of it and not find out what was going on - from either him or her daughter. Samantha was big enough to sort out her own problems and Patricia's own advice –particularly on men- had never been welcome.

Xx—

Two or so hours later, a tap on his rear window woke Jack from an uneasy nap. He looked up to see Samantha standing there, with her arms crossed. She'd read the letter, and had been pacing and thinking –especially thinking- before coming to the decision to see him. Tipping her head in the direction of the house, she set off without waiting.

A somewhat gratified and relieved Jack heaved himself up from the uncomfortable back seat and got out of the car to follow.

Xx--

Patricia was now messing about in the kitchen, with a small, shrewd smile on her face. The nature of that smile didn't escape her daughter's notice when she returned with Jack in tow. It remained as Samantha gave Jack a grand tour of the house designed to lead them to a place where they could have a proper talk.

"…And this is my room," Samantha said, pushing the door open on the last room to view.

"Nice," said Jack obligingly, looking around, "cosy -and surprisingly messy."

At that, Samantha moved to pick up some clothes she'd dumped on the other bed she hadn't been using. Her suitcase was also on it and she'd been using it instead of drawers, not wanting to get too comfortable and thinking that remaining half-packed meant she could have a quicker getaway from her mother if she needed it. "I think I've reverted back to my old ways," she muttered, embarrassed.

"It doesn't look like… you," he commented, looking around at the various bits and pieces in the room.

She finished tidying haphazardly and watched him as he looked around. "After I got married and left, Mom decided to turn it into a guest room pretty quickly and redecorated. She threw a lot of my stuff out."

"I can relate to that…" Jack was thinking of Frank and what he'd been like.

"It could be worse; Emily's room was the sewing room I showed you – it morphs into whatever handicraft my mother is into at a given time."

"Which I guess explains the patchwork quilts on the beds." Jack was finding it all very charming and quaint. He smiled as he noticed an empty glass with a fine handmade cover, complete with beads to weigh it down, on her bedside table. It definitely wasn't a Samantha thing.

She noticed his attention. "The cover's an old habit of my mom's. She always says it keeps the water from getting brackish –or something." _Good grief, this _is_ small talk at its finest…_

Jack was thinking the same thing. "I guess it works then…" Seeing nowhere to put himself, he sat down on Samantha's rumpled bed and looked up at her. She was still the Sam he knew, however in her old family surroundings, he couldn't help but see something of the girl she had once been. "Come here, Sam," he asked gently.

Sitting herself purposefully on the other bed across from him, she had a questioning look on her face. "Why did you come all this way?" she asked directly. "Realized that you couldn't live without me?"

They both realized that it was not the best start.

Jack, however, chewed the last question over before replying. "To tell the truth Sam," he said carefully, "I've found I _can_ actually live without you-"

"Oh, well, all right then-"

"I just don't want to."

Regretting her earlier flippancy, she asked in a quieter tone, "So why are you here, then?"

"I don't really know, I can't really even explain it to myself."

"You could try," she pushed, wanting to know.

"Okay then…" he sighed, thinking for suitable words; he hadn't rehearsed anything in his head, not knowing he'd get past the front door. "I just had to come and see you because I needed to, because you know how I feel about you… It's all been wrong. Everything's been wrong between us lately."

"I could have told you that."

"And I didn't like how we finished that day in the interview room."

To his surprise, Samantha hung her head down. "I know." She couldn't find much else to say.

"Will you please just come here?" he asked again, softly, wanting her beside him, wanting to feel her next to him.

"Jack..."

"Please."

"No," she said steadfastly, staying opposite him, feeling a bit wretched.

He couldn't quite understand her coolness, but he supposed he deserved it. He hadn't been too hopeful for a big reunion scene, and she didn't appear to want one right now in any case. "All right," he acknowledged, but continued to look at her while she now focussed on the floor, somewhat hunched in on herself.

Could he have hurt her that much, or did she feel bad for hurting him? Perhaps it was a combination of both.

Something was necessary as he was quite lost. "Another thing is that it feels…" he looked around the room for a moment as he sought the words, seeking help, "…it really feels like you've left me."

That made her look up. "What?"

"It felt like you'd left me," he said, changing tense.

"I know it all got too much in the interview room. It wasn't meant to be like that-" _And_ _I was only running away… for a short while…_

"Well, it certainly seemed like it at the time -and then you were gone. It's just that… everyone seems to leave me, Sam, and I just can't bear the thought that you could have done that too…" The last time he'd talked like this was with Barry Mashburn and Jack thought he'd come a long way since then, but it didn't appear to be so.

"Jack, that wasn't how it was supposed to be," Samantha reiterated.

"I hope so, because it sure seemed that way."

"Words got said -you know what we're like. I've been so upset with everything that's been happening…" _Or not happening._

"We both have," Jack said, wanting her to know he was suffering just the same she was.

A compromise was needed.

Jack leaned forward. "Then how about some sort of truce? We're here, now, and New York is a long way away."

She stared at him a few moments, surprised. How typically male of him; brush everything aside in favor of a quick fix. "It's not a truce I want," she stated with certainty, "I want my Jack back, my Jack of the carriage ride and that night, Jack of the Hamptons..."

"I want to be that too... I want _my_ Sam back." He looked at his hands, now resting on his knees. "I really hate not having you around. I'd even rather have you there, not talking to me, than anywhere else. Being angry at me is fine. I'll take anything." He hoped he didn't sound desperate, but it was how he felt.

"I doubt you're really sure of that," Samantha remarked, knowing Jack wasn't quite that masochistic.

"I do know I certainly miss you at work, and everywhere else."

"And I hate being away from you... It's horrible," she admitted.

"I came here for _you_, Sam. I want us to be together."

"I want that more than anything, you _know_ that..." It was just finding the ways and means. She could tell him a few places to start but that would no doubt lead them back to more arguments.

"So why… why is this all so damn hard for us?" Jack said, frustrated. "It was going so well…"

They stared at each other again, each in the same frame of mind -that something needed to be done and here they were, in yet another ridiculous, unresolved circle.

"Look, I just want to know… are we okay?" Jack asked, hesitantly.

Knowing it was the best for the moment, Samantha knew she had to give in, and nodded.

He raised his eyebrows in hope. "A truce then?"

"A truce, yes –but it's not a total truce," she added, not wanting to give in one hundred percent.

"That's fine."

They looked at each other with relief –knowing they were getting there, even if it wasn't going to be totally determined right here, right now. At least they wouldn't be fighting over trivialities.

Samantha stood up after a few moments. "You can stay the night –if the sofa will do."

"Are you sure you want that?" Jack asked, taken aback at her offer.

"I'd rather have you here than sleeping in some old Norman Bates motel."

Not wanting to stay another night in that dull, beige place either, and happy to be asked, Jack was fine with the suggestion. Preferring naturally to share the single bed he was sitting on, Jack wasn't going to push his luck and stood also. "The sofa will do. It would be nice to stay here, where you spent some time growing up… Me being here –it's not going to freak your mom out?"

Samantha shook her head. "She's quite unfreakable after all these years and not as old-fashioned as you might think. She was a bona fide hippie once."

He remembered her saying something like that before, usually in a tone of reproach.

Not that she really wanted him to, however she thought she'd ask, in a voice that clearly didn't imply it, "Do you want to go and sit in your car awhile longer?"

_Hell no_. "I would rather hang out with you here."

"Be warned, Mom likes old movies."

"And she already knows I like old movies from when we were talking."

"She doesn't do schlock."

"Good, and you know I don't either."

They smiled at each other, almost shyly.

Truce.

Xx--

His head bent to one side, Jack perused Patricia's DVD collection with squinted eyes; he'd left his glasses in his jacket pocket back at the motel.

"I like your collection, Pat," he said, when she walked over and wordlessly hovered.

"Nothing like a movie to make your day. You want to choose something?"

"What would you like?"

"Well, unfortunately there's always Sam's Bogart aversion to remember."

Nodding, Jack slid a DVD out. "Then how about this Hitchcock?" proffered Jack, choosing one without Jimmy Stewart for a change.

She grinned her approval. "_North by Northwest_ –good choice. James Mason, Cary Grant, lovely -although that henchman of Mason's is a bit creepy at times. Then how about _Sunset Boulevard_?"

"Great film, but too gloomy I think."

"Then I'd like to watch _Some Like it Hot_, as it has something for everyone… Sammie! Popcorn ready yet?" she called out to the kitchen, much to Jack's amusement.

There was a muttering from Samantha, as she'd been there while Jack had been poking about.

Patricia sat down on the end of the sofa. "I thought we'd have dinner in-between shows, if that's all right." Then she looked over at Jack as he sat himself into the armchair by her, an inquisitive look on her face. "So, spell it out for me, if you and Sam were a movie, what would it be?"

He thought a moment as he put his cell phone, wallet and car keys on the small side table by the chair. "Well, boy meets girl, girl loses boy, time passes and things get confused, boy gets girl back, then it seems like boy loses girl again..." It sounded odd to him, breaking his and Sam's history down so basically and easily.

"Good grief, that's an epic! Because of what?"

Jack sighed. _Yes, an epic, years in the making_… "There's a long list, but lately I'd say mainly because of his daughters," he stated, truthfully.

"Daughters…" Patricia shook her head ruefully. "You're preaching to the choir here." She leaned over towards Jack. "And how does the movie end?" she asked in a hushed tone. "Does the boy get the girl back?"

He glanced over to the kitchen where Samantha was still organizing the popcorn, the smell wafting over to them. "I think so Pat, I really do."

Xx--

They ate a very civilised dinner at the table, Jack and Samantha opposite each other and Patricia on the end. Jack filled Samantha in on the Joyelle McCaffrey case, in detail. Patricia was wide-eyed, and -unusually for her in her daughter's eyes- silent. Jack elaborated on how they'd been trained to automatically hide themselves in the back of their respective bedroom closets when unexpected guests arrived; of how they'd clung to each other, crying like children, when they realized they were finally free of Melco. Jack said it was going to be tough for them, especially in their personal lives, and while hoping they'd make it together, he knew the toll it had taken on them both.

"Are all your cases like that?" Patricia finally asked, touched by the plight of Joyelle and Trent.

Samantha decided to answer. "What did you expect, Mom? That we wander the streets handing out leaflets hoping the missing will get one and wander back home?"

"Well, not exactly –I have seen some TV shows and I was just wondering…" Patricia said as she filled up all their wine glasses again.

Jack reached for his wine. "People can be a lot sicker and weirder than you think, Pat. It's not always a happy ending," he pointed out, catching Samantha's eyes as he drank; they'd seen too much in their jobs to know just how much that was true.

Patricia was thoughtful. "Well, it's lucky for us that there are people like you and your team that care enough to find people and help them."

Samantha blinked; it had sounded like her mother was paying them both a compliment -or it could be just for Jack. Either way it would do. "Ah Mom, can we start watching the next movie now?" she asked, to cover her surprise.

Nodding, Patricia got up. "Sounds good –and we'll eat the cobbler while we watch," she said, beginning to clear the plates.

His mouth beginning to water at the thought of the promised homemade cobbler, Jack rose and started to help**.**

Patricia reached out a warning hand to stop him."You just go and sit in the living room," she fussed. "The Spade Women are here and looking after you."

Samantha shot Jack a sharp look that clearly said: _Don't even _think_ about ever using that line on me. _

Silently chastened before he had even thought it, Jack retreated to the living room.

Crossing the room to his chair, he remembered the time and grabbed his cell phone, then he moved to the front door. Hand on the door handle, he called back to the kitchen that he was going outside to make a call. Examining the night sky as he stood in the cool air, he phoned his daughters. They were fine and enjoying themselves, but the call degenerated into trying to settle a fight between them about going to the movies the next day. Lauren, Stevie's mother, intervened and said she'd sort it out. After hanging up, he looked at the stars until he heard Patricia calling for him to come in.

He wandered back to find a bowl of the promised cobbler and ice cream waiting for him by his armchair. Samantha and her mother were already ensconced on the sofa, waiting for him so they could start. He toed his shoes off while the movie started and slumped himself down comfortably. After the dessert was finished off -and between that and the tasty dinner and wine- Jack found himself contentedly sated and mellow. He was even prepared to confess to himself that it was pleasant to actually have a real night off with no family and no work to worry about. The snug and homely surroundings also contributed to his relaxation. _Some Like It Hot_ was well on its way and hadn't lost its timeless charm.

He'd caught Samantha's eye as she glanced his way on one occasion and the same thing happened a few times further. Smiling back each time, he knew it wasn't a game they were playing; it was just the continuation of a nice and pleasant evening and he decided he liked this truce, as much as he liked being around Samantha again. Patricia seemed agreeable enough –not quite what he'd imagined after all these years of Samantha's various comments, however.

Although he was definitely enjoying the current movie, he thought he'd shut his eyes, if only for a moment…

A few minutes later, Patricia noticed him, and nudged Samantha. "He's out like a light," she said quietly.

Looking over, Samantha was amused to find that Jack had indeed nodded off, his head resting back a bit. She smiled. "Then maybe we should call it a night too."

"I'll get a blanket and a pillow for him," said Patricia, bustling off.

Switching off the TV and DVD player, Samantha watched him indulgently while she put the disc back in its case and returned it to the collection. He looked serene as he slept, so peaceful. It was amazing how one man could have her heart so completely, and drive her crazy at the same time. It couldn't last for long; he'd sort things out.

He had to.

He must.

Her mother came back and draped a blanket over Jack while Samantha rearranged the sofa cushions and put the pillow on one end.

"It's nice having a man around the house again," remarked Patricia.

Samantha smiled again as they left the living room, knowing what her mother was really like and quite sure she was still never lost for male company after all these years. She found she was glad that her mother seemed to actually like Jack, not that she'd said anything out loud, but she hadn't said anything bad, either.

"Jack's a nice man to have around," Samantha said, taking a look back at him as she turned out the light.

Xx—

Later in the night, Jack woke with a small start.

It might have been a rural thing, like a hooting owl, or the quietness of the countryside, or just from sitting in jeans too long. He had to orient himself in the strange surroundings for a few moments. The blanket that had been placed over him had slid off somewhat and he noticed a large pillow placed in readiness for him on one end of the sofa. Slowly getting out of the chair, he padded quietly down the hallway to use the bathroom. Of course that required going past Samantha's room.

He paused outside her shut door on the way there, and on the way back, not daring himself to go in as much as he'd like to, before going back to lie on the sofa. Pulling the blanket up to his chest, he stared at the various pictures on the wall for a while, knowing Samantha wasn't sleeping too far away from him for the first time in weeks. Eventually his eyes shut again and he slept.

Xx--

Something was niggling in the back of sleeping Samantha's brain.

There it was again.

Insistent.

She reluctantly surfaced from her sleep, blinking at the thin shaft of light coming through a crack in the curtains.

"Mmph..." _What _was_ that_…? She groggily assessed her situation before realizing what had woken her.

Fingertips.

Lazily circling her breast, lightly brushing the nipple through her t-shirt before moving away, then returning –not a bad way to start the day in normal circumstances, but this wasn't what she'd call normal circumstances.

"Jack…" she murmured, wondering what he was up to now -although that was patently obvious.

"Shhhh," he comforted from behind her, spooning cozily, his fingers now gently coaxing her nipple harder. "I thought it might be a nice way to wake you," he said as he nuzzled her neck, breathing in her scent and regretting how long it had been.

"Oh, you're joking," Samantha muttered drowsily. "Here, in my mom's house… This wasn't part of the truce."

The nipple stroking ceased and his hand fell away, to rest lightly on her side. "Well, if you don't want to…" He couldn't hide the tinge of disappointment in his voice. "We were interrupted last time."

She thought back to the last time they were together -before his daughters and damn in-laws turned up. "No… we weren't."

"Okay -_I_ was about to be interrupted."

"Don't tell me, is this one of those 'what happens on the trip, stays on the trip' things? Because I _hate_ that."

That line had been in Jack's back-up arsenal. He changed tact. "We're here, in your bed and sometimes my actions do speak more loudly-"

Samantha wasn't having any of that. "No, Jack. You do not follow me here and then expect me to give in just like that," she said, despite the snug feeling of him pressed against her in the small bed which was all so familiar and inviting.

She also knew that if she took one look into his eyes she'd be a lost cause, especially this close.

Which wouldn't be a bad thing –it had been weeks, after all…

Jack propped himself up on his elbow. "Sam."

She willed herself not to react, certainly not to that lovely early morning rasp his voice always had.

He stroked her ribs, fingers lightly pressing. "Sam, look at me…"

Yielding, she turned her head. _Damn…_

"I came here because I wanted to see you, out of work, without my family commitments and if it worked out then great, but definitely just _us_…" he said, squeezing her for emphasis.

His eyes, his beautiful hazel eyes, looking at her, not imploring but just there, full of what she knew was love and caring. There was no way she could say no to him right now, not after all his effort. "It's not just us here, there's my mom," she pointed out lamely.

He tipped his head. "It's been great to meet her -in a getting-to-know-you-kind of way."

"She's just down the hall," she added.

"Well, we're good at being quiet."

Samantha had no comeback to that. "I doubt you brushed your teeth last night," she said, reaching over to get her glass of water and passing it over and behind her.

Jack took a big gulp and swirled before swallowing and before handing it to Samantha, who followed suit.

He was thrilled she hadn't kicked him out.

Waking earlier than usual - being on NYC time- and throwing all caution to the wind after a few minutes' not-so-deep thought, Jack had gone to see if Samantha was awake. He'd even asked her quietly if he could share her bed and her muzzy reply hadn't been a 'no'. He'd quietly undressed to his boxers, making sure his keys didn't jangle as he put them with his phone and wallet on the floor, on top of his jeans before slipping in behind her, where he'd been contentedly for half an hour. The caressing of her breast had almost come instinctively, as it was such a natural thing for him to do.

There was a sudden sound of water in pipes. "That's Mom, she's awake."

"How long do her showers last?" Jack asked, about as casual as a brick through a window.

"Long enough… Plus she'll be washing her hair today, and there's all her hair drying and fixing afterwards."

"Ah…" said Jack -the immediate future was looking better.

That settled that then. She lifted his dropped hand back to its original position. "Okay, but you're on your own for this one. I'm going back to sleep, I'm on Kenosha time…"

She could have sworn she heard one of his eyebrows rise and she knew he couldn't see her smug smile. "I like a challenge," and his fingers resumed their familiar circling and nipple tugging for a few moments before he snaked his hand up under her tee. "And I'm sorry," he said, "but these clothes really have to come off." After brief frantic moment of stripping later, they were back in the same position.

Sliding one of his arms under her neck, Jack's other free hand resumed the foreplay with her breast. Satisfied when that nipple was good and hard again, his fingers slowly but surely traced a light trail down her ribs and stomach –with a brief detour into her navel, before an excruciatingly long fingertip dance to her crotch.

Samantha pressed herself further against his groin. "You're like a kid who's found their favorite toy again."

"Shhhh, you're asleep, remember?" he reminded her, concentrating on his objective. Sam breathed out contentedly, sighing as she did so, as she lightly placed her own hand on his, pleased with where his hand was going to finish. She could feel Jack's lips, tongue and scratchy, unshaved face on the back of her neck where he'd pulled her hair aside; she always loved that and was immediately transported back to their last time, on his sofa.

After gently entwining his fingers in her lower, shorter hair, Jack guided his middle finger to her now aching clit. With an exhalation of pleasure from both of them, he began slowly and lightly rubbing it.

She moved against him again, feeling his rock-hardness in return. "Mmmm, nice," she murmured, her breath quickening as his adept fingers continued their work.

"Sssssshh," he quietly told her again, his hand action getting firmer and quicker; her slick wetness making it easier and smoother.

His leg came between hers, giving him better access and he took his hand away from her front to bring it round from behind, seeking her slipperiness. Deftly he slipped two fingers inside her, not too deeply, moving them around gently, in and out.

Her own hand slid down to her sensitive clit, taking over what Jack had started, using her own moistness.

"Oh God," Jack breathed huskily in her ear. "You feel so good…"

"Sssshh, I'm supposed to be asleep…" Her hand was quickening; he responded by licking and biting her earlobe, his busy fingers still going in and out. He broke off his ear attentions as the small bed wasn't designed for that position to go any further comfortably.

"Roll over," he whispered.

She was on her back in an instant, parting her legs for him, groaning happily as he lay himself between them.

With his chest pressed against her, he could feel her breasts in turn against him, and propping himself up on his elbows, he decided to stop moving.

He stopped so he could gaze at her, so he could gently push the hair out of her eyes, to savor the sight of her beneath him, to find her still wanting him as much as he wanted her, thinking of the time back at his apartment a few weeks back, where she'd had the same look on her face after all those years –total desire for him.

"Oh Sam…" he breathed, practically bursting with love and longing. "My darling, darling Sam…" He ran his fingers over her cheeks as she reached up to do the same to him, before losing them in his hair. He gently pressed his lips to her parted ones, their first kiss for so long -as light as a feather, as pure as an angel's -almost to check that she was still real and still his, through their long haze of yearning.

"I love you," he said, simply.

There may have been the start of tears in Samantha's eyes but she held his gaze. "And I love you so damn much. I was beginning to think that you'd given up on me, on us-"

He didn't hesitate. "That is not true, and I do love you, you shouldn't doubt that ever again…" and he lowered his mouth to hers again, to kiss her as deeply as he could. She shifted her legs and hips so he could enter her, as seamlessly as ever.

As he slowly started to move inside her, almost finding his way again, she wondered how she could have ever qualms about him. Clasping her legs around his waist, she let him set the gradually increasing pace, wishing they could stay in this moment forever –his arm now under her, clasping her body to his as much as he could, his mouth fastened over hers, her inner muscles clenching hold of him, their tongues becoming more frantic in their need to reclaim what had been so recently misplaced.

He pulled his head away as he liked to watch her, see her face contort with the pleasure he was giving her, mirroring it with the ecstasy she was giving him in return.

"Oh…" she sighed, not caring that the water pipes were now silent, not caring that this was her old bed, in her old room, that this was her mother's house, and that was her Mom just-out-there. These things did not matter. Her mother was going to be busy primping and preening for awhile; the bed didn't squeak too much, and Jack was being Jack –throwing himself into making love with her, as he always did –wonderfully and generously. He loved her and he'd traveled all that way to prove it and if that had been his agenda all the way here, it was of no concern.

This was her Jack, thrusting into her; her Jack, enveloping her body with his, his actions doing exactly as he'd said they were –louder and far better than his words ever could.

However Jack did have four breathless, straightforward words for her just then: "Come with me, Sam." To help, his fingers had found a way down to her clit yet again, while she dug her fingernails into his back as a reply, marking him as hers.

"Yes," she managed, urging him on to deeper, rougher thrusts -if that were possible- to achieve the treasured goal.

He was losing himself in the sensation of being with her. Jack had been luxuriating in her velvety softness and waves of pre-orgasmic spasms for long enough.

And then she came, as he knew she would, as he liked her to -shuddering, gasping and he was determined to wring every last orgasm he could out of her for as long as he could, until he heard a stuttering intake of air from Samantha, which sent him over his teetering brink, holding her tightly as he joined her finally.

They lay there, in the small room, as their heartbeats returned to normal. Jack's cheek pressed against Samantha's face, perhaps longer than he usually would, lost in the afterglow, lost in their thoughts.

Not wanting the bliss to end.

Jack lifted his head to kiss Samantha again. "Thank you," he whispered.

"Thank you back," Samantha smiled before reluctantly squirming under him, a signal for him to pull out. He gently rolled off her onto his side to curl around her, his arm under her head, while she hooked her legs over his and stayed on her back.

It was quiet beyond the door. Samantha figured her mother must have finished drying her hair by now, and was probably in the house somewhere. She would have seen straight away that Jack was not on the sofa, and she knew her mother wouldn't be surprised.

Lightly stroking her stomach, Jack needed to speak and break their snugness. "Two things. It seems that Danny and Viv know about us."

_Damn._ "How?"

"They bumped into your 'boyfriend' Soft Toy Boy, some time back."

"Oh, crap… The list is getting longer." She didn't really want to know.

"As if Olczyk wasn't bad enough. We'll worry about it later I suppose. They seem cool about it."

"I'll try not to piss them off, anyway."

"And my flight's not until this afternoon, if you want to do something… else, that is." He doubted they could hole up in her bedroom until he left without some reprisal from Patricia. It might be a bit much, even for her.

"I'm not too bothered. We can just hang around here, or go and discover the delights of Kenosha." In reply to his touch, she slowly slid her hand along the side of his ribcage and then his waist, coming to rest where his leg hair began below his hip.

"Such as?" Jack the New Yorker sounded doubtful that there could be such a thing.

"I think the Renaissance Faire is on." It had been threatened on a list of things to do by her mother.

"Uh-uh, that's a big pass there."

"There's the _Jelly Belly_ jellybean factory tour."

"If you're serious, then that is actually heading in the right direction…"

"No! Over the Renaissance Faire? I'm disappointed."

"Liar," Jack teased, fingers tickling her.

"Stop it…" she chided, giggling, slapping his hip for emphasis, so he leisurely did. "Just hold-"

Jack's phone rang, startling them both. "Jesus…" muttered Jack, pulling away from Samantha to reach for it on the floor beside the bed.

Samantha groaned in annoyance. "Don't answer that, Jack."

"You know I have to -it could be the girls." He now had the phone in his hand and looked at the ID. "Christ," he said in disbelief, "it's Martin."

Samantha wasn't sure if Martin calling right then was irony, or karma being a bitch. "Look, two seconds, you can call him back-"

It was if the rings were getting louder. "He was on call this weekend," Jack explained, sitting up. "I have to take it…"

She irritably turned away from him as he answered the phone.

Listening with a sinking feeling, he knew he was needed.

Further, from what Martin was saying, he'd be either getting a call from Olczyk, or Director Baines –at his personal beck and call again it seemed- fairly soon as he again had some connection with the case. He told Martin he was out of town and wouldn't be back for several hours as it was. Thankfully Martin wasn't enquiring any further and the implication of Baines and Olczyk was enough to say it was high-profile.

_Fuck._

Ending the call, Jack looked down at Samantha. "I have to leave," he said succinctly.

"So I gather."

_It's always been something. _

_His wife._

_His kids._

_Their work._

She felt idiotic to imagine things would change that quickly.

Jack watched her profile a few moments; she'd shut her eyes then open them again, clearly in thought and mulling over something.

_Not good._

"What's wrong?" he asked softly. Samantha said nothing as she closed her eyes again. He took a gamble. "Was that a mistake?"

She opened her eyes at that.

"You need to tell me… Sam?"

"We needed it," she said bluntly, meaning the sex; her emotions obviously a stark contrast to the way she had been a few, short minutes ago.

"But it hasn't helped matters…" He studied her expression a moment. "I honestly don't know what to say. I thought we were fine… I know what you want and please, if you'd just understand that I'm trying my hardest to make things right for us."

She wanted to be angrier than what she felt, but she couldn't stop the disappointment from her voice. "Yes, yes, I've heard it all before. Look, I'll be back soon, and we can go back to just… existing together at work I suppose." That's how it would work: He'd go back to New York right away, and she'd come back in a few days and they'd go back to their earlier ways.

So much for their very brief idyll.

"You know I want to be with you-"

"I _get_ it. You've been very clear about it all. It's happened on the trip and it can stay on the trip." She kept her head still turned away from him. "You'd better get going. I'll see you at work."

Truce over.

Xx—

"Leaving us so soon?"

"I have to go," Jack said, almost sheepishly. Hanging around with mothers -especially 'afterwards'- wasn't his usual thing, and even if he wanted to, he still had to leave.

Patricia shrugged non-committally. "If you say so," she said in the tone of someone who was used to it. "Your shoes are by the sofa."

"Thanks," murmured Jack, going to find the one thing he didn't take to Samantha's room. Putting them on, he was waiting for Patricia to come over, lecture or question him, but she stayed in the kitchen, drinking her coffee and flicking through the newspaper. Getting up and going back to the kitchen, he felt he should say something. "Thank you for your hospitality."

"I hope you came all this way for more than just… that." Her blue eyes weren't being judgmental, just vaguely curious.

"I did -and it wasn't just for… that."

She nodded. "I hope things work out between you both."

"I'm sure they will, Pat." _At least they were for a short time_.

"Coffee?"

"Uh no, thanks. I really should be on my way –I have to get back to the motel, return the car and get an earlier flight," he said, rummaging around in his pockets, making sure he had everything he needed. A quick shower and shave at the motel was also on the cards.

"See you again sometime?" asked Patricia.

"That would be nice."

Small talk exhausted, he took another look in the direction of Samantha's room before leaving.

He wasn't expecting her to come out.

Xx—

Patricia poured another mug of coffee and went to Samantha's room, knocking gently before going in. Samantha was now sitting up in bed, her t-shirt back on.

"He's gone?" she asked her mother, taking the mug.

"Yes. I'm not going to ask what's up with you two," Patricia said, going over to open the curtains.

"I don't even know if I could tell you," Samantha said, blinking in the bright morning light.

Patricia sat on the bed, looking at her daughter in a sympathetic way. "But… he's the one."

"Yes." She hadn't hesitated.

"That's good. It's nice when you're sure."

The Spades sat for a few moments in silence as they both contemplated this. Patricia looked down at the bed. "Looks like we'll be doing the laundry today after all; I think these sheets were overdue as it was."

"Sorry, it wasn't planned." Jack leaving just like that certainly wasn't, either.

He could have stayed an hour longer, at least; he was going to be late for the investigation as it was.

She blamed herself as she sipped the coffee.

_Stupid, stupid._

She shouldn't have said anything, just lay there in his arms, but oh no, she just couldn't help herself.

She had to stop this self-inflicted sabotage.

"Mm," agreed Patricia, "that's what he said, that it wasn't planned." She paused to look at her daughter, not unkindly. "And don't you think you're a bit hard on him?"

"Wha-?" Samantha frowned. "You ask too many questions."

Patricia now gave her daughter an earnest look. "I've learned I have to after all these years, and besides, you never give anything away."

Samantha didn't even have the strength to start an argument.

Sometimes your mother was right, whether you liked it or not.

Xx--

TBC.


	26. Back to Work

**A/N: **Sorry this update has been a little later than usual but real life does get in the way. Thanks to the lovely Mariel for her excellent betaing and my friends-in-fandom who try not to nag me to write -but they know I need it!

**Disclaimer:** CBS do not deserve to be associated with WAT. So there.

* * *

**Back to Work**

Xx—

Sunday afternoon, NYC.

Jack found Martin and Jackson Kitagawa at the hospital during a free moment between interviews. "I didn't know we were that desperate," he remarked to Martin after greeting them. The rookie seemed to shrink under his glower. Not that Jack had intended his look to be such, but it had already been a long day, with Samantha and flying back to NYC on one hand, and fielding calls from Director Baines and Olczyk on the other. At least he'd had a brief respite from it all when he was on the plane.

Martin didn't feel the need to apologise. In any missing child case, you grabbed everyone you could. "Viv was out of town over the weekend, and Jackson here was more than happy to be called in."

Nodding, Jack guessed that Vivian had wanted to get away with her family before school started. He made a quick mental note to check when his girls were due back; it must be soon and he knew he really should know exactly when.

As Martin flicked through his notebook to update Jack, he cast an enquiring look at him. "Where have you been, anyway?" he finally asked. "I know you said you'd be a few hours but you were out of touch on your phone for a while-"

"I'm not the concern here," Jack diverted, again a little more tersely than he intended, "just tell me where you're at." He didn't want to rehash the fabricated story of where he'd been to Martin. Upstate with his dad had been a good lie at the time to Baines and Olczyk and he was going to stick with it when needed.

Martin glossed over what Jack already knew. "The missing toddler, Brooke Kirshner Smith was snatched from the hospital while one mother, Sarah, was getting something to eat; the other mom, Trudy, was at home with their elder son. Brooke had been having ongoing treatment for being born with dislocated hips. Sarah is the birth mother, and Brooke was conceived with an anonymous sperm donor."

Looking around at the hospital hustle and bustle, Jack was thoughtful. "Exactly how anonymous?"

"Iron clad."

Jack knew one of the mothers was the connection with Baines, through his wife in some sorority past life. He looked over at Kitagawa. "And you have no problem with that?"

"Not at all… sir." Kitagawa almost looked like he was about to salute.

Jack let his face relax an iota. "Good to hear." He turned his attention back to Martin. "And Danny is...?

"With the family," Martin supplied.

"How much of the hospital have you done?"

Martin breathed out heavily; they really didn't have enough agents. "Not enough."

Jack was back in control, and fine with having Martin have the lead in the case. "Okay, I'll rope in some more, and while we get going, you can tell me where I can start."

Xx—

Monday. 10.16am.

Time being of the essence, Vivian leaned forward in her chair, ever so slightly. "So, tell me more about your new little sister," she asked gently. It had taken a little while to make friends with the 6 year old, who –while usually quite chatty- had clammed up when there had been too much attention thrown at her.

"Mommy said I wasn't to tell," Grace said, twining her finger in her hair. "I want my mommy here."

Martin shot Vivian an apprehensive look. They couldn't bring in her mother just yet, as the mother was looking like the prime suspect and working in the hospital's gift shop a few floors down.

"But look, your teacher's here, and you know her." The child looked at the center's head, who was also a family friend, smiling reassuringly. Grace had arrived at the hospital's day care facility boasting in a loud whisper to all and sundry that she suddenly had a new baby sister –but it was a _big_ secret and no-one could say _anything_. The center's head was immediately concerned, having known Grace's mother for some time. She'd immediately given the heads-up to the agents.

Watching the shared looks, Vivian continued, quietly. "And over there, that agent and the police woman are good friends of mine, so it's okay to tell." Vivian then pushed a photo of Brooke across the little table. "Is this your new sister?" she asked.

Hesitantly, the little girl looked at the photo, then frowned. "Yes, but her hair is wrong. Mommy changed the color and made it shorter because she needed a new look and we also gave her a new name. Her name's Dorothea now, because my mommy says," she screwed her eyes up in remembrance, "it means she's a gift from God."

"Where is Dorothea now? Is she at home with daddy?"

"No, Daddy went away."

"When was that?"

"When I was a much lot younger, when I was five. Dorothea's at my grandma's today."

Vivian nodded to Martin who casually but purposefully left the room. He got out his phone. "Jack? It's the part-timer in the gift shop, Olivia Cooke; we interviewed her first thing this morning."

Jack grunted. The woman had been as cool as a valiumed cucumber when she'd given her alibi that morning. He wondered if she'd be quite so calm now. "I'm on the first floor not far from the gift shop," he told Martin.

Martin reached the stairwell –anything was faster than a hospital elevator. "I'll send Viv and Danny to where Brooke is and I'll meet you at the shop."

Nearly there, Jack beckoned to Kitagawa and a couple of NYPD officers to accompany him. "Olivia?" he asked the lady as they entered the shop. She looked up from behind the counter, where she was making bows for gift wrapping. "We'd like a few more words with you."

There was a definite look of guilty panic this time from Olivia Cooke; whatever she had taken must have worn off. "Right now?"

Jack glared at her –it wasn't as if she had any choice. "Very _much_ right now."

Xx—

"So," said Jack, summing up as he, Martin and Danny arrived back in the bullpen, shortly after lunch, "apparently some people still disapprove of a lesbian couple raising a child, and in her right wing, fundamental religious way, Olivia Cooke decided that she could raise the child in a 'better' Christian home." He was still shaking his head at it all.

"I didn't know kidnapping was sanctioned by the Bible," Martin said as he took down Brooke's picture and began to clean the whiteboard.

Danny was already seated in a chair, stretching to get some cricks out of his back. "Amazing the way people can justify their actions to themselves," he said yawning. "I am so ready to go home. I haven't stopped for days."

Jack, who had also been busy since he'd decided to go to Wisconsin three nights earlier, rubbed his eyes with one hand. "You can both get your reports to me in the morning, no rush. The Director and Olczyk are pleased with all of us so I think you two deserve some time to yourselves after your weekend work."

Martin wiped his hands clean. "That's fine by me. What about you, Jack –going home?"

Shaking his head, Jack grabbed some paperwork off the bull pen table. "Soon, I've got a few things to do until Viv finishes winding things up at the hospital. I'll see you both tomorrow." Leaving them to it, Jack left in search of a large coffee, his mind already off work as he began to wonder how to re-pay Stevie and her parents' kindness in looking after his girls for the last few days. He'd managed only a couple of phone calls to his daughters, but as he'd been burning the midnight oil since he returned, he did need to see them. He figured that a few bottles of wine for his neighbors would do, and Stevie would be happy with extra money, as usual.

Returning to his office with a satisfying mug of brew, he took a sip as he sat at his desk and then tiredly rubbed his face this time. Being so tied up in the case, he'd admittedly not given Samantha much thought. Now, in hindsight, he knew he could have spent that extra hour with her, as she'd suggested. He paused, and reconsidered.

As she'd demanded.

But that wasn't the way it worked and it wasn't the way he worked.

Still, just a few days, and she'd be back. He hoped his early departure wasn't still pissing her off.

Xx—

Thursday morning.

The return of Samantha day.

Jack had been at his desk since 7.45am, just in case she may be early. He hadn't worked himself into a state, but he was more than just keen to see her, whether she was still in her bad mood or not.

He watched her go past his office and into the empty bullpen at exactly 8am. Thinking it would be best to wait until she was ready to see him, he found some things to do.

Five minutes later, he was rewarded with a knock on his open door.

Looking up, he gave her a small, casual smile of welcome as she came in. Smiling back, she stood in front of his desk before staring down at her fingers, nervously fiddling with them.

He sat back in expectation, not knowing what to expect, but as she wasn't talking, he thought might as well begin somewhere. "Good to have you back." Neutral. Safe.

"It was a nice vacation," she agreed.

He couldn't resist. "Parts were -I'd hope."

She looked up at that and smiled demurely, before returning her eyes to her hands.

Jack had waited long enough. "Sam, is something up?" he asked.

"Um…"

He gazed at her, still waiting –although he wasn't quite sure for what. "Tell me," he prompted.

"Okay," she said, taking a deep breath as she shut her eyes for a moment. "I wanted to say… I wanted to say how sorry I was for acting the way I did... I've been tough on you and you don't deserve it."

Jack just stared. He hadn't been expecting that.

Samantha continued with her rehearsed speech, "You've had a lot to deal with and I should be patient. We're fine, really, and I promise not to act so selfishly in future. No pressure." This time she gave him a small, almost anxious smile.

"Uh-huh…" Jack was still in neutral mode.

"So… ah… I'll just get back and catch up on my paperwork," she said, indicating the bull pen. Pausing by the door, she turned. "And yes, just to let you know -I'll keep," and then she left him there, still blank.

Jack watched her retreating figure.

He didn't know what the hell had just happened, but he liked it.

Xx--

Back at her desk, Samantha picked up the large pile of paper in her in-tray and was ready to go through it, when she decided to open her desk drawer instead, to look at her stone and shell from Jack, wondering if she should put them back in their place on the desk.

She'd done _a lot_ of thinking in the days after Jack left. Her mother had stayed mercifully silent, leaving her to brood when she needed to and still keeping any advice to herself, even though she'd given Samantha some certain looks, almost daring herself to say something.

Her mother's words had kept coming back to her: _Don't you think you're a bit hard on him?_

Samantha knew she had been.

Knowing that and, coupled with all the thinking over the past few days, it had all culminated in the short, hopefully successful speech with Jack. He hadn't said much but she was sure it had gone down well enough. Feeling refreshed in the aftermath of doing something positive, she was eager to get back to her work.

She'd arrived home last night to a stack of mail, a layer of dust and the post-vacation blues already. Quickly shaking it off, as if she'd really had any choice if she wanted to move forward, Samantha had dusted, organized her clothes and then had known that she was ready to face Jack and knew what she would say.

Shutting the drawer on the stone and shell as it could wait for another time, Samantha turned at the sound of approaching footsteps.

"Hello there!" said Vivian brightly, putting her bag on her desk and coming over. "Did you have a nice time?"

"I did, thank you," Samantha replied, wondering if she should give Vivian one of those 'I know you know about Jack and me' looks, but decided against it.

It was all too convoluted.

The boys then arrived -Martin with a box of danishes and Danny with fruit smoothies for all, prompting raised eyebrows from both Samantha and Vivian. "It's slightly healthy," Danny explained by way of greeting as they put their food on the table. "So Kenosha Girl, aside from owing us all a few weekends of being on-call, did you bring us stuff? Please, tell me it's cheese, or better yet, Fonzie's leather jacket."

Martin tutted amusedly, as he parked himself in front of the food.

"Neither of those," Samantha said mysteriously, reaching into her handbag, "maybe something better."

_I'm sure __Jack won't mind sharing._

Xx--

"No," Jack heard Danny protesting as he came into the bullpen a few minutes later. "That is a gross generalization. Shame on you."

Samantha pushed something away from her. "Well, I'm not going eat them -yuck."

"What's all this?" Jack enquired, standing over them.

Samantha looked up and smiled. "I brought a big bag of _Jelly Bellys_ from the factory and Danny won't eat these special jalapeño-flavored ones, even after I picked them out just for him." Her mother had been surprised when Samantha had suggested going there, muttering something it about being for kids, but they'd both found that, again, they'd enjoyed themselves very much.

Danny's frown deepened. "Not even on a dare. _Any_ flavor except those ersatz things," he said, picking out a peach one from the bag to prove his point.

"I'll eat them," said Martin, reaching out to grab the small, green pile and winking at Samantha. "Thanks for the gift."

Sitting down and looking at the bag, Jack was pensive. "Well, I can't say I think they sound edible either… but I do like most of them, just not all the time," he said, choosing a few and then popping them in his mouth. "I didn't know there was a _Jelly Belly_ factory near your mom's," he fibbed, watching as Vivian also sorted out which ones she liked best.

Samantha smiled at their old game. "It was a lot fun, actually. You should go sometime."

Jack grabbed the last smoothie, hoping it didn't involve yoghurt. "One day maybe, Wisconsin's a bit far." Taking a sip from his straw, he glanced over at Samantha's desk. "I think you have quite a bit of catching up to do."

"Yes, it looks like it," Samantha said absently, watching as Martin helped himself to another danish; she could have sworn he'd put on weight recently. Still, thankfully, he wasn't her problem anymore and for the thousandth time, wondered whatever had possessed her to go 'there'; having Jack sitting next to Martin right then made the comparison very easy and she was still happy with her final choice. She roused herself. "Okay, what have I missed out on?"

"Well, we closed the Joyelle McCaffrey case!" announced Danny.

"Really?" feigned Samantha, as she already knew it all from Jack. "That's great news, tell me what happened!"

Vivian had been quiet throughout the exchange, drinking her smoothie, avoiding the danishes and more jellybeans, and trying not to glance too much at Samantha and Jack. She didn't know where they were at the moment so to speak, but if it continued genially like this, whatever it was, she'd certainly be a happy agent and team member.

She was still sticking to her 'no more interference' policy. It made life much easier.

Xx—

Jack made it home earlier than usual that evening. Samantha's first day back had started well and continued smoothly. He was relieved that she wasn't at odds with him. The break must have done her some good, and he felt confident that his visit may have been instrumental in her attitude change. Dumping his jacket on the end of the sofa, he greeted Stevie. "What's up?" he asked, presuming the girls were in their room.

Looking up, Stevie muted the TV. "To quote REM: 'It's been a bad day'."

Never a good thing to hear, Jack suppressed a sigh. "How come?"

"The girls, they've been acting up, out and sideways and driving me up the wall! They caused havoc at the hospital with Frank and then the trip to the supermarket was a nightmare. They wouldn't do _anything _I asked them to, so they've been grounded in their room until you got home."

"_You_ grounded them?"

Stevie's expression was not to be trifled with. "Trust me, babysitter's prerogative."

Leaving the living room to check on the girls, Jack found that they were well-behaved and angelic, and quite happy to be in their room. Maybe the time-out had calmed them down. He left them to it and went back to Stevie.

"See?" said Stevie, muting the TV again. "And don't blame it on excess sugar."

Jack rubbed his temple wearily as he sat down. "Well, I'm sorry they've been like that, as they're perfectly fine now."

"Hmph," was Stevie's reply.

"I was hoping tomorrow you'd take them shopping for new uniforms, and whatever else they need for school." He'd checked on the website when their school was going to start and found out it was sooner than he thought; they had this weekend and then the next before they went back, so he thought he should try and organise something special for the last weekend. He wasn't on call and he wanted to take them away somewhere.

She shook her head. "No, I can't imagine anything worse and besides, I know fuck all about prissy school uniforms."

"Stevie..."

"Okay, sorry –_nothing_ at all."

"I doubt they'd want me to take them, frankly," Jack said, staring at the TV screen in thought.

"Ask Joyce."

He looked over at Stevie, not sure he'd heard correctly. "Huh?"

"Granny Joyce. They were talking with her today, and I bet she'd be rapt."

"That's... a good idea," Jack admitted, not that he'd actually spoken to the in-laws since their last visit.

The nasty, surprise visit.

Stevie continued, "It would give me a day off; I can go to the hospital."

"Okay… Hang on a minute; it's not one of Frank's days tomorrow –is it?"

Stevie actually looked sheepish. "Ah, no... But there's this guy who works there I like..."

Jack smiled in understanding. "I see."

"He's a bit emo-tragic so he needs some help, especially with his hair, and some of his lyrics, and he's in this band-"

"I get the idea, Yoko," Jack teased.

"No!" protested Stevie. "It's not like that... Well, not just yet," she added, trying to be honest. "The other guys are a bunch of talent-less losers."

"Okay, let me guess... he's the bass player?"

"How did you work that out?" She was clearly impressed.

"I just didn't think you'd go for the obvious or most popular, so maybe we should call you Linda instead." Jack was secretly pleased; he was worried that Stevie's dialysis visits with Frank might be getting boring, so a boyfriend there would be a good thing, one way or another. "I'll phone Joyce and see what we can organize," he said, getting up, not looking forward to the call but again, needs must.

He was in luck –Joyce was icy at first, but once Jack explained his idea, and in spite of the short notice, she practically gushed over the suggestion, and actually offered to pay for whatever they needed.

Putting the phone down, Jack wondered if she'd been replaced by a pod person, which would be an interesting.

And a definite improvement.

Xx—

Samantha's home phone rang at 10.03pm. Surprised, she picked it up, hoping it wasn't work, although anyone from the Bureau would have used her work cell.

"Heya Sam, it's me," Jack's quiet voice said.

The old Samantha would have come out with a caustic remark about him waiting long enough to call her, but this was the new Samantha.

"Heya back."

"I thought I should touch base for a few minutes. It was nice to have you back at work today."

"It feels great to be back, although I prefer to start work on a coffee, not a smoothie."

"I hope it's not a trend."

"I bet Elena made him do it."

"For sure... I've missed you, sweetheart."

Damn, he was melting her. "Me too. You know what they say: A rest is as good as a change."

"Then I think they've got their wires crossed."

"I think they could handle it."

She could hear his breathing and just that alone was a comfort.

"We'll get together soon." He really had to get the promised dinner organized.

"I'd like that."

"I'll leave you to it. Goodnight... Sammie."

Samantha laughed. "You are _so_ going to pay for that!"

"Well, you're not the only one who can keep."

After their final goodbyes, Jack checked the time –LDF would still be open to talk to Jeremy Everard and then he wanted to play on the PC to find somewhere to go with the girls for their last vacation weekend.

Xx--

The new, better fitting uniforms had been paraded when Jack got home on Friday night and Joyce had been long gone.

"Were you good today for your grandmother?" asked Jack later, over a thrown together pasta dinner the girls had helped cook.

"I was good," said Kate, sweetly, before shovelling a forkful of food into her mouth.

"No you weren't, you stuck your tongue out at her," said Hanna, then yelped as Kate kicked her under the table.

"Well, at least I didn't yell and scream like a baby when she suggested you get a haircut," Kate retorted. "She said Hanna looked like a hippy..."

Hanna rubbed her shin. "That hurt! And you don't even know what it means!"

Jack wasn't pleased to hear what they'd been up to, and was less pleased when Joyce phoned half an hour later asking if they could meet for lunch on Monday. Jack agreed then spent all weekend wondering -in a worried kind of way- what she wanted to talk to him about.

Xx--

When Monday rolled around, Jack pre-empted the lunch to a coffee, explaining he was busy, which he actually was. They sat in a cafe near the Bureau, Joyce with her large handbag perched on her knee, Jack's fingers tapping on his lap; he had a lot of things to do at the office and this was becoming more of a pain every second.

"I hope the coffee's nice here," she commented, looking around.

"It's not bad, actually," remarked Jack, preferring a triple whisky at this point, early as it was. If he didn't know her better he'd swear she was apprehensive about something. He in turn was concerned she was going to announce that she and Mickey were going to sue for custody of his daughters.

Joyce looked down at her handbag then back at Jack. "Have you decided which high school Kate will go to?" she suddenly said, catching him off guard.

"Uh... it hadn't really crossed my mind," Jack said, momentarily thrown off-guard. "I guess Maria had something planned once, but as they've got a few years at _R. Thomas_ to go I hadn't really thought-"

"I've got some reading matter about various schools and academies here that you might to look over, as a start." She pulled out a thick handful of pamphlets and booklets from her bag and handed them to Jack. "And the same would apply to Kate when she was older."

"I'm sorry?" Jack said weakly, at a loss as he put them on the table in front of him. He looked down at the reading matter. "What are you up to?" he asked, in an overtly suspicious way just as the coffees arrived.

Joyce waited until the waiter had left, slightly embarrassed. "Look, I know Hanna said –threatened rather- about coming to stay with us but really, Mickey and I have had a long talk about it –very, very long," she emphasized. "And while I admit that we liked the idea at first, it's just not realistic. We're grandparents, and while it's nice to see the girls for vacations and we love them to bits, we do enjoy our own time together and two young girls fulltime aren't what we had planned for our retirement. It may have been a great plan or dream once, but it's just not feasible –unless something happened to you." She was then quiet, an anxious look on her face as she took a long drink of her coffee.

Jack couldn't detect any lingering nastiness in her last point. He quickly scanned the covers in front of him. The schools were all local, nothing too far away. "Do the girls know this?"

"No, that's your department I'm afraid, and frankly after that last visit you're welcome to it… Basically, Mickey and I would like to look after the girls' education in future."

"Which means you'll decide where they go to study, college and all that."

"I'd be wrong to say we wouldn't like to but I'm not as Machiavellian as you think. The final decision is totally yours as their father, we'd like to make suggestions or just be consulted -and I'm sure you're not completely stupid where your daughters' educations are concerned."

Jack raised an eyebrow at the backhanded compliment. "Gee, thanks."

"We'll set up an education trust fund in their names and the money can go there. It'll be one less thing for you to worry about and I'm sure it's what Maria would have liked."

"O-kay," Jack said carefully. The thing with Maria's parents that there was always a sting in the tail, but Joyce was being upfront; it was a reprieve from the usual. Frankly, he didn't want to chat with her, so he held up a couple of the booklets. "I've still got some time, how about we go through some of these now?"

Joyce smiled gratefully; probably also relieved, and Jack saw a glimpse of Maria. He always thought Maria took after her dad overall but the smile was definitely like his ex-wife's –it was odd to see it after all this time.

"That would be great, Jack –and thank you."

He couldn't help but smile back.

Things were looking up.

Xx—

Tuesday.

Jack couldn't believe his ears as he listened on the phone. This was amazing; it was times like this that he really loved his job.

Gregory Carmichael had been found.

"So who-what-how?" asked Danny when Jack practically ran to the bull pen to tell the team the news.

"Carmichael was in a bar upstate and picked up a girl."

Samantha was already on her feet. "How old?"

"17, on a fake ID. He'd taken her back to a motel. I'm not sure but from what PD told me, she may have looked a bit like Renee."

"Consensual?" asked Vivian this time.

"Yes, but he picked the wrong girl –her father's in the local motorcycle gang. She got scared when Carmichael got rough, made some extra sexual demands and threatened her with a gun. She managed to phone her dad from the bathroom, and he got a few of the guys along to the motel, and beat the crap out of him. This is definitely a _schadenfreude_ moment for me."

Martin frowned in disbelief. "He took a gun to a fistfight and lost?"

Jack shrugged. "Go figure, however it would have helped him if the idiot actually had bullets _in_ the gun. Carmichael was unconscious by the time he got to hospital. The staff looked through his wallet and found several different IDs, so they called the local PD in, who checked him out." Jack grinned evilly. "It's so beautiful, I could cry."

"Wonderful! Road trip?" asked Samantha, making sure it meant everyone.

"If anyone wants to come along, I think a nice little bedside visit, then we can fight with PD over who gets him, them, us or Louisiana –I've already spoken to his caseworker down there."

"Are we allowed to rub salt in his wounds?" Danny asked, practically bouncing on his heels to get going.

"It's not Christmas yet, so unfortunately not," Jack said dryly. "When it's all done and dusted I'll send word in the direction of the Mitchells and I think even Melody Strannis would be pleased to hear what's happened."

Vivian held up some files. "I'll pass, I've got some cold cases I want to look at if that's okay Jack, but I want to hear _all_ about it."

"We'll give you all the gory details -and I call shotgun with Jack!" called Danny, already on his way out, Jack in his wake.

"Looks like us again," Martin said, as they started to follow, "do you want to drive this time?"

Although silently cursing Danny -because that's where she wanted to be- Samantha smiled at Martin. "Why don't we save the Bureau some money and all go in the same car?"

Martin nodded in surprise. "That's also very eco-friendly and green."

"Well, it's the small things that add up," Samantha said, virtuously.

Xx—

Here they were, standing yet again by a bedside, in yet another hospital.

Carmichael was in a heavily sedated state and there wasn't much to do except stand and observe him breathing raggedly in and out. He'd changed his appearance yet again, going for the shaved head and goatee look, and while he'd stolen another car, he hadn't left the state. Looking at him pathetically lying in the bed, it all felt rather anti-climatic. Jack played paperwork for a later transfer with the local PD and that was it. At least Carmichael was in custody and was going to remain so for a very long time, which was the best situation for everyone else concerned.

As they were leaving the hospital Jack, waiting until Martin and Danny were out of earshot ahead of them, stopped Samantha by laying a hand on her upper arm.

"Sam, I'd like to take you out for dinner, tomorrow night, all things considered as usual. Is that okay?"

Just the sort of thing she wanted to hear. "Sounds good, I'd like that very much."

His hand dropped down to hers and he squeezed it. "I'll drop by your place at 7pm sharp."

"I'm looking forward to it."

Letting her hand go for form's sake, he couldn't help but smile broadly. "Me too."

Xx—

Jack stood in front of the display of folded shirts at Macy's, and realizing once more why he liked basic white with his black suit and ties. Since he was taking Samantha out on the long awaited dinner that night, he'd wanted something new.

There were too many shirts to look at in too many colors, and Jack had a sneaky suspicion that he was going to be talked into a new suit; as much as he liked his black ones, he guessed he really needed something less funereal. The mandatory fey young male sales assistant came over and offered his help, and Jack knew he had little choice but to give in. He drew the line at the suggested pink shirts though –they were too much of a Martin thing, and while he was man enough to wear that color, deep down he knew it wasn't really him.

However, as he left later carrying a couple of large bags, he felt good in the fact that he would be looking smart for Samantha, and knew he had to concede something:

_Women are right; retail therapy _is_ fun_.

Xx--

Samantha didn't have too much trouble. A simple skirt and a new-ish blouse she hadn't worn at work. She took the most care of herself in the bathroom, primping and preening, making sure her make-up, while appearing to be natural, was precisely done.

She was excited to be going out with Jack, but didn't want to get her hopes up

Taking a deep breath, she looked at herself in the mirror.

_Be calm and cool._

_Do-_not_-get-any-hopes-up. _

_It's going to be a nice dinner with Jack._

_Th__is new Samantha will not be demanding anything of him._

_I am__ patient._

Satisfied with her state of mind, Samantha finished off with a stunning red lipstick with plenty of time to spare to choose a perfume. Looking at her reflection in the mirror, she nodded to herself with a smile.

_I'm ready._

Xx--

Stevie, Hanna and Kate's heads all turned when Jack came into the living room.

"Wow, Mr. M, you're looking sharp," complimented Stevie, from where she was helping Hanna on the PC.

"Thank you Stevie," Jack said, fiddling with his cufflinks. His suit was a dark grey and the shirt was a safe dark blue. He was still deciding whether to wear a new tie or not; currently the no-tie look was winning in a smart, casual way.

"Is it another big work dinner?" asked Kate, looking up from her Harry Potter book.

Jack stopped playing with the cuffs and looked at them all squarely. "No, not quite… I'm taking Samantha out."

"You're _what_?" Hanna was not pleased.

"You heard me."

"But Dad, we told you-

"Yes, I know well enough what you threatened me with and you know what? You hadn't consulted your grandparents about your plans and they're too busy to take on two pre-teens so you're stuck with me."

There.

He couldn't be any more blatant.

Like a band-aid being ripped off, and stung just as much.

Stevie put in her ever present iPod earphones and returned her attention to the monitor and the mouse.

Jack continued. "So, you're stuck with me -or a boarding school if you want. You don't have to like Sam, but if she happens to come over, you can at least be civil to her."

Hanna got up and stomped off to her room.

"Is Sam going to be our new mom?" Kate asked in a quavering voice, looking up at him.

Jack crouched down beside her. "No-one can replace your mom, sweetie, and trust me, me going out with Sam isn't going to change things around here in a hurry."

"Do you promise? I like Sam, but I just don't want..." she trailed off.

Jack knew what she meant to say, that she didn't want a replacement so soon. "Yes, I promise and I understand, honey, but you also have to remember that Mom and I were apart for some time before she... passed away."

Kate put her little arms around his neck, burying her face against him. "I know, but it's really hard."

"Can you talk to Hanna for me?" Jack asked, knowing that he would still have to do it.

"I'll try."

He kissed her cheek. "I love you, pumpkin."

"I love you too, Dad," she said, in a tiny voice.

Xx--

True to his word, Jack was there for Samantha at 7pm. When she arrived to meet him on the pavement, he gave her a once over and whistled his appreciation. "You look beautiful," he said.

"You look pretty damn gorgeous yourself," Samantha returned, liking his no-tie look very much.

Jack rolled his eyes. "Now, if you're going to make fun of me..."

Shaking her head, Samantha laughed gently. "Not when you look as handsome as you do -just take the compliment, Jack."

"Okay," Jack conceded, pleased enough not to show it too much. "Our taxi awaits."

Xx--

At _Les Deux Frères_ the maitre d' greeted them and they followed him through the full restaurant, then surprisingly into the kitchen.

Jeremy Everard looked up from a small pot of something he was stirring. "Hey, great!" he said warmly, shaking their hands after wiping his own on cloth. "Right on time –I like that." He passed on instructions to a chef about the sauce and beckoned Jack and Samantha to follow him upstairs. "I've got a treat for you two…" he said mysteriously, as he started to ascend.

Samantha looked pointedly at Jack. "What's going on?"

Jack raised his hands in defence. "Nothing I know of," he said, confused, letting Samantha go ahead of him –like a gentleman but also as a man, so he could appreciate her legs in her heels and skirt.

"Office?" she mouthed, looking back at him. Jack could only shrug. Maybe they were going to look over the books again.

Jeremy did lead them to the familiar office, but it was transformed. The furniture had been pushed back and covered with white cloths, there was a table set for two in the centre with unlit candles, and it all looked pretty much as it was in the restaurant below. There were some plants and some other lit candles dotted around to give some semblance of intimacy.

"Hope this is okay, can't say we've ever done this before," Jeremy said, waving them in.

"Ah, you didn't have to go to all this troub-" Jack began to protest.

"The hell we didn't! We want to. Gaz has been emailing me some ideas from his holiday and you two are our guinea pigs."

"No really, it's not necess-"

Jeremy's face wasn't taking no for an answer as he pulled a chair out for Samantha to sit. "My Gran cooked for the Yanks at home in the war, so think of it as a family tradition of gratitude. Also, I can't have the other diners wondering why you're getting something different from them." As Samantha sat, he placed the napkin across her lap. "Really, it's the least we can do as thanks, and as long as you don't mind my chef's gear and the makeshift surroundings, I'll also be your personal waiter for the evening," he said, lighting the table candles. He then went to a wine bucket that held a bottle of champagne and opened it as Jack and Samantha could only look on.

Jeremy filled their glasses, then gave them each a short, handwritten menu. "I'd like to recommend the rack of lamb as your mains."

"Sounds good," Jack ventured.

"Oh, it is, and I only use the best –New Zealand lamb. Trust me on this," and, looking satisfied at the way things were going, Jeremy left.

"Wow…" breathed Samantha, as they were now finally alone.

"Huh…" Jack managed.

"Are you going to declare this as some sort of kick back?"

"I feel the point is fairly moot months after a case finished and he does keep saying we're his guests."

"So… you didn't know anything of this?" she asked, gesturing to take in the room.

Shaking his head again, Jack was sure. "Not at all. He obviously wants to do it and it would be mean-spirited to say no." He picked up his champagne flute. "Thank you for coming out with me."

She chinked her glass against his. "No, thank you. You did promise to take me out."

"I seem to remember you made me promise after prodding me awake one night."

Sipping her champagne, Samantha smiled nostalgically, thinking of times gone past. "Yes," she sighed a little sadly, wondering when or if she'd ever get the chance to do it again.

_No,__ no, no, _she reminded herself as she took another sip to cover her slip-up, _I am_ _patient._

Reading the menu passed the time for them both. "What do you think you'll go for?" Jack finally asked, clearly unable to make a decision, it was all sounding so good even though there were few choices.

"I'm disappointed there are no desserts." It had been the first thing Samantha had checked out.

"Oh, don't worry about that," Jeremy said, overhearing as he joined them again. "Audrey's been making a big tasting platter for dessert, so you have been warned. She couldn't make her mind up what to do so she went mad.... Crazy-mad that is," he added for clarification.

"The menu looks great but if Sam says okay, I think we should let you decide," Jack said looking to Samantha for assent.

"Brilliant! I like that too," Jeremy said, taking the menus from them. "It's a good idea to let someone else take control occasionally."

Glancing at Jack, Samantha couldn't help but smirk at that, trying to decide who was risking more when it came to control issues, herself or Jack.

Xx--

Dinner was all small talk, not incredibly intimate but being who they were and their work, Jack and Samantha had a lot to talk about. When Jack told her about what had happened recently with the in-laws, Samantha was impressed with their decision about the schooling and commented that it all sounded very grown-up.

"They must have been inspired by the _Gilmore Girls_,and I'm surprised Joyce didn't tear your head off just for fun," she added.

"No! I was shocked too… Give them time and eventually they should warm to you."

Samantha shook her head. "Honestly, in the long run I wouldn't expect them to –ever." It was one of those facts of life things.

Jack leaned back in his chair, moving his spoon around his plate. "I told the girls I was seeing you tonight."

"You have been busy this week," Samantha remarked, before she ate a spoonful of the homemade vanilla bean ice cream.

He felt she was owed the truth. "They weren't exactly overjoyed…"

"It's not going to be instant happiness there either." Samantha looked up at him, his somber expression was telling. She leaned forward. "Honestly, it's fine Jack, it really is."

He held her eyes, feeling better, knowing she truly meant it. "Thanks for that, I appreciate it."

Knowing it was better to say nothing further and leave it as it was, Samantha returned her attention to the desserts. "You're giving up?" she asked him, indicating the plate.

He held a hand up in defeat. "I'm good, go for it."

Taking a lingering taste of the matched dessert wine Jeremy had given them, Jack watched Samantha and couldn't help but be amused as she investigated the dessert remnants as she was obviously wanting the food to last as long as possible. There was something that suddenly struck him.

He put the glass down. "Sam, I want to ask you something."

"Uh-huh?" she murmured, her attention fixed on spearing a last, lonely raspberry.

"Marry me?"

The fork and raspberry clattered onto her plate as she looked at him, open-mouthed.

"What…?"

Xx--

To be continued, definitely.


	27. Beginnings

**A/N:** Final chapter! So I shall take up some space.

Thank you to everyone who is still reading this after all this time, especially since the series has finished on our favourite couple. It's been a long story and it certainly didn't start out that way -7 chapters was the plan I usually say- but the story just kept evolving and writing itself. Some of the content from this chapter was written literally years ago and can now see the light of day.

A big thank you to **Mariel**, my beta and friend who has supported and helped me with understanding and patience. I don't know what I'd ever have done without her, or her help. My thanks to every person who took the time to review, it means a lot to me, and if you've never reviewed before, perhaps drop me one to say hi, I usually reply.

And to my Ladies -they know who they all are- we have good taste in actors! I wish I had met Anthony LaPaglia earlier in the piece instead of just last year, it could have helped some descriptive writing a _lot_ more. He made Jack Malone more than just some random FBI agent and shines in any role.

And for the record, I called Jack _Batman_ a long time before they ever did in the final, dreadful episode and if any WAT scriptwriter had been reading _any_ of the WAT J/S fic by the fine authors around here, we would have had a better ending. No -a better final series.

**Disclaimer:** CBS still suck and I guess we can also count Warner Brothers in that too.

I think I shall rate this chapter M, for a change.

So here we go. I shall stop rabbitting and let you read, after all, that's why you're here. Enjoy!

* * *

**Chapter 25**** -Beginnings**

Xx--

What can you say?

A 'yes' is usually appropriate at this time. She'd had experience before in this area, as had Jack.

But not actually _with _Jack.

What can you do?

"Sam?"

_Stop looking at her as if you can't believe what you just said._

_Stop staring at him with your mouth open like an idiot._

It was Jack's expression that Samantha would remember later; fear that she might say no; that he'd made a fool of himself by asking, mixed with more than a smattering of surprise he'd even said the words aloud**.**

It was hopelessly endearing.

How could you not love a man like that?

How could you possibly say no?

A smile tinged her lips at the thought.

Her pause, however, gave Jack doubt.

"I'm –uh- sorry," he said, averting his gaze. "Just forget I sai-"

"You've thought about this?" she cut in, figuring he needed help and that some composure from herself was necessary.

Blinking, Jack he wasn't about to admit that he had thought of it vaguely in the past, but just _then_ it had been a spur-of-the-moment thing. "Well, yes…" he started, but decided it was time to act more assuredly. "Yes, I'm serious -I want to marry you... I want to show you my commitment to us."

"Okay." Her heart was thumping wildly; she wondered what Jack's was like.

"And I love you… You know I need you in my life; I'd like us to have a future together."

"All right."

"And I know the girls may not like the idea right now and we shouldn't tell them just yet-"

"Jack…" When would he let her speak?

"And we'll also have to keep it a major secret from work, so I guess it's more of an unofficial thing for now, like a promise." _Oh Christ, if I could just shut up. _He grabbed his glass and knocked back the rest of his wine to stop his burbling.

Waiting until he'd finished, Samantha –amused- put her hand over his on the table. "Jack, I've pretty much said yes twice already."

His face was blank again, amazed. "You have?"

"Yes!"

Relief washed over him. "Oh thank God…" he breathed, squeezing her hand in return. "You're absolutely sure?"

Time to spell it out for his male brain. "Yes Jack, I'd love to marry you, whenever we're allowed to."

"I don't have a ring…"

"I'm not expecting one –not right now, at any rate," she added for clarification.

"Do I have to go down on one knee as well? Because I might never get back up."

"You could be excused for that."

Jack stood. "So, am I allowed to kiss my secret fiancée?" he asked, holding out a hand to her as he came around the table.

"You need to ask?" she asked looking up at him, taking his hand to steady herself as the implications of what this all meant sunk in.

"I just want to make sure it's not the wine talking," he whispered, pulling her tight close to him.

Samantha was glad he was holding her; the kiss they shared made her knees buckle.

Xx—

Making it to the taxi, Jack opened the door for Samantha and followed, practically throwing himself into the seat. After giving her address to the driver, he looked over at her. "What was that Jeremy said… about bowling a maiden over?"

"I have no idea, something British?" Samantha assumed she was the maiden, although that was a long time ago.

"I guess…"

There had been big hugs from Audrey and congratulatory slaps on the back from Jeremy at the news before they managed to get away. As nice as it had been to share their news, it was time to be alone again -albeit with a taxi driver watching them gaze at each other.

"You look smug," Samantha said, teasing Jack.

"You still look beautiful, maybe even more so," he said, happy at how the evening had ended up, even though it hadn't been his plan at all, "and anyway, if I'm smug, I think I have every right to be."

"You're not going to change your mind?"

"No, definitely not! Why do you ask?"

"It was just the look on your face, you surprised yourself."

"I think I did but I'm not backing out. I think all our pointless bickering has been from not knowing where we're heading."

"And now we're here."

"We certainly are."

"The night is still young…" she pointed out, her fingers running along his thigh.

"You'd like to actually offer me coffee and a nightcap this time?" he asked, thinking of the last time they'd stood on the steps to her building, after their movie date.

"And more besides."

Jack put his arm around her. "Yes, well… I hate to leave you alone tonight, but I'm going to have to get back home."

"If you must," she said, unable to hide the disappointment in her voice, while she curled her hand around his leg.

"I didn't leave things well with Hanna," he admitted, trying to ignore her temptation.

"It's okay; I've had enough excitement tonight."

One of Jack's eyebrows rose. "You're not being a martyr are you?"

"Probably, but I understand. Do you want to phone just to make sure?"

Nodding, Jack got his cell out and made the call. He was right; Stevie said Hanna had surpassed the insufferable stage and she'd really like Jack to come back as soon as humanly possible. After the call ended, he told Samantha that he was definitely needed back at the apartment.

She snuggled into Jack's side, not wishing to put on an overt display of affection for the taxi driver, and just enjoying being close to him. "It's been a wonderful evening," she sighed, watching the city lights as the taxi drove on.

Jack kissed her temple and shut his eyes. "It still is, darling," he murmured.

Xx—

After he'd seen Samantha to her door and had shared a goodnight kiss full of longing, Jack's mood dropped somewhat as he got back into the taxi, but he knew what was coming so at least he was prepared. He took his wedding ring off his neck chain and put it back on his finger, for Hanna.

Kate was asleep in their bedroom and Jack found his elder daughter in the living room. Giving Jack a sympathetic look as an indication to be careful before she left, Stevie made herself scarce.

Hanna was curled up on the sofa, looking at something in her hand as Jack sat himself down on the other end.

"What are you looking at?" he asked quietly, gauging her level.

"Kate and I found some of your wedding photos."

_Ah._

Jack leaned over to see. They must have had a good ferret about as he hadn't seen any of them in years.

"She looks lovely," he said truthfully, as Maria had. As for himself, he wasn't so sure –he looked so young and gawky, but there they were, beaming and so very happy. "Your mom did her hair and make-up herself; she said it had to be the way she wanted. Grandma Joyce nearly freaked out at the mere thought."

Hanna nodded in agreement. "Mom did a good job."

Jack smiled at the memory. "She did."

Putting the pictures down, Hanna looked at Jack. "I miss her," she said, firmly.

"Me too, sweetie." _At least some aspects._

"I don't think you really do."

Not wanting to rise to the sting, Jack waited a few moments. "Don't ever think that Han, because it's not true." He took a photo from her and held it. "We were happy then, and we were happy for a long time, but it came to an end."

"You stopped loving her."

Supposing he had it coming, Jack wasn't surprised at this line of questioning. "Things happen, people change, it's hard to explain, maybe you'll understand when you're older," he said, using the hackneyed phrase. "And it wasn't just me –she stopped as well."

"So I guess you can't say you still love her."

"She gave me you two –I'll always love her for that." That was quite true.

Hanna managed a small smile. "Yes."

Wanting to bring the conversation around, Jack took Hanna's hand in his. "I haven't liked the way things have been with us. You _know_ your mom and I were apart some time before she died."

"Yes..."

"And she'll never be truly replaced by anyone for you-"

"But…"

"_But_… I really like Samantha, and I'm going to see more of her. I tried it your way like you asked, and it just didn't work out. You've been quite tough on me."

"It was a bit of a surprise, finding her here like that."

"Believe me, I'm sorry it happened like that. I'd go back in time if I could, but in future, things are going to have to change."

"Slowly?"

"Would that help things?"

"I guess so."

"Then slowly will be fine. You may not like her around sometimes, but I'd like you to be civil when she is… to be nice to her, okay? Like I asked before," he clarified.

"Hm," was all Hanna said, which Jack took as grudging acceptance.

"There's one more thing," he hesitantly ventured, "I'd like to stop wearing my wedding ring now."

She did not have a happy face. "Aw-"

"Please, look, it's time for me to stop as I haven't been married for some time and I don't want to wear it around Sam –it's not fair to her. I'm not throwing it away; I'll put it with your mother's jewelry for you both."

Hanna looked at another wedding photo, knowing she had no choice and it was time to reduce the hostilities. "I suppose so."

Jack put his arms around her and held her. "Thank you," he said as Hanna begrudgingly returned the hug. "Okay, time for bed," he said, letting her go after a few moments.

Standing up, Hanna remembered something. "I nearly forgot, the lady from the bed and breakfast phoned."

"What did she want?" Jack asked, hoping it wasn't her cancelling on him.

"She said she had a couple of extra nights free –Thursday and Friday if we wanted it, I said I'd tell you but I said I was sure you'd be busy –like you always are."

Ignoring the last comment, Jack knew he could arrange things. "How about we go there late tomorrow afternoon then? It'll make the weekend longer."

Hanna looked doubtful. "Are you sure?"

"Would you like that?"

She brightened. "I really would, and I'd like to go to Mom's grave before we go."

Jack nodded, it was a reasonable request and the girls hadn't been for some time. He checked his watch. "It's late but I'll phone the lady right now." As he went to find the phone number, he felt particularly relieved.

Things were definitely getting better.

Xx—

Samantha sat in her bed, unfortunately alone.

As if she were going to get any sleep.

She was surprised she hadn't burst with bliss.

A betrothed woman.

_Gosh_…

A secret one of sorts -of course.

She needed to tell _someone_, however she didn't exactly have any girlfriends –a product of being on the job too much; Viv and Elena certainly were not the ones to talk to, but she knew her mother wouldn't exactly blab it around the FBI.

"Hey, it's Samantha."

"Sammie! How are you?" her mother almost yelled down the line, fighting against some racket going on in the background.

"What's going on over there?"

"Just our monthly quilting bee."

"It doesn't sound like it."

"Well, it's changed over the years, now it's just another excuse to lounge about and drink without the men around -you know, generally let our hair down with mai-tais, mojitos, things with tacky umbrellas…" Samantha was sure her mother had had several of each by the sounds of it. "Are you all right? Is anything wrong?"

"No, I'm fine; I just wanted to tell you something."

"Tell me what? I can't hear –will you women keep quiet for a moment? It's my daughter." Samantha could hear the background noise die away, except for the occasional giggle. "Thank you! ... Okay, go ahead."

Samantha took a big breath. "Jack asked me to marry him!"

"Oh Sammie, that's wonderful news! Hold it -you did say yes, didn't you?"

"Oh, _Mom_ -yes, I definitely did."

"Good! Otherwise I know a few ladies here who'd snap him up in a heartbeat."

"I bet there are" Samantha suspected Jack would then technically have to become a toy-boy to some of her mother's older friends, if that happened. _As if_…

"What's the ring like?"

_Um_. "It's all a bit unofficial at the moment -later."

"Ah, sounds like your usual complicated way of doing things, but I'm rapt for you… Did you hear that, girls? Looks like we may have to make something after all -my little Sammie's engaged!"

Samantha grinned as she heard the whooping and hollering down the line. "We haven't set a date or anything like that, but I'd really like you to make it to the wedding." Once she would have never considered such a thing, but now, things had improved.

There was a muted shriek from her mother. "Oh, that would be wonderful… To hell with the cocktails, I'm opening some champagne!"

After they'd hung up, Samantha snuggled into her bed, hugging her Jack-substitute pillow. It was nice to share the news with her mother -and her boisterous friends- and not have any gibes that she would have received from her mother a few years back.

Reaching to turn off the bedside lamp, Samantha smiled to herself happily. Her new attitude had definitely been getting her unexpected results.

_My fiancé, Jack Malone._

She liked the sound of that -very, very much.

Xx—

_Thursday morning. _

Jack had just trudged into the kitchen, heading for morning coffee like a homing pigeon, when his home phone rang. He answered it, trying to suppress a yawn.

"Hey Jack, it's Max," a croaky voice announced.

That woke Jack up like a cold shower. "Max...? How -no, _where_ the hell are you?"

"I'm not really sure, somewhere in the mid-west; it's still a bit dark outside to see," he said, his words slurring. "Some motel on the side of the road."

"Are you drinking?" Jack could hear the sound of tinny TV set in the background, and he wondered what kind of dive it was.

"Heh, I haven't stopped since I left Anne."

Jack rubbed his eyes, thinking it might clear his hearing. "You what?"

"I walked out on her about a week and a half ago. She really is a crazy bitch."

Recalling the last time he'd had spoken with Max, this still wasn't news to Jack. "I see…" he said impartially, waiting for more.

Max didn't disappoint. "We tried, we really did… but after my… affair thing, she just would never let it go. Things were fine for a few days after we left New York and I thought we were happy, but then she needled me with some remark, and then there was a fight, and then we made up, and then it started all over again… It's been like waiting for a perpetual bomb to go off," Max took another swig of whatever it was he was drinking, "and it just got too much to handle."

"I know how it can be," Jack commented, seating himself at the kitchen table, coffee forgotten.

Wanting to elaborate further, Max continued. "I _know_ it's my fault; once that trust is gone, it's gone. Anyone who says otherwise is just lying to themselves, but I think we tried as best we could -I know I did."

Jack wanted to get off the adultery subject. "Where's Anne now?"

"I don't know, I don't care… With her equally demented family, I expect."

"So what are you going to do?'

Exhaling deeply, Max was thoughtful. "I thought I'd contact the Bureau, see what I can get into –that dull desk job I had is looking mighty tempting all of a sudden."

"You think you still can?"

"My supervisor said he'd leave it open for me when we left. I'll dry out and get myself back there in awhile."

"Don't take too long."

There was a pause on the line, then:

"And how are you Jack?" Max drawled. "How's it all going for you?"

The newly engaged Jack wasn't going to let on anything. "Okay, everything's coming together."

"Yeah? Well, that's great… great." Max was sounding sleepy. "Good old Jack is happy; I hope I can get some of that -maybe I can, now that stupid woman has gone, I might just manage it this time."

"Look after yourself Max, and contact me when you get back."

"Uh-huh… catch you," and with that, Max hung up.

Jack was pensive as he got his coffee organized, wondering what Max really would do next. He'd just poured himself a cup when Kate came in.

"Morning –who was that?" she asked, sleepily, coming over for a hug.

"Good morning -Uncle Max, keeping in touch.'

Kate yawned expansively on her way to the fridge to get the milk. "Is he coming back to New York?"

"Yes, just him."

"So no Aunt Anne," she stated, trying to reach for a box of cereal with the milk in her other hand.

Jack picked it out and handed it to her. "Certainly seems like it."

Kate sat down at the table. "I think that would be best for him."

Grabbing a bowl and spoon, he placed them in front of her. "I'd say you're right." He wasn't about to point out that that was also the way it had worked out for Maria and him. "I'll be at work most of the day but I'll get things organised to leave there early, so I want you two to be packed, then we can leave quickly when I get home."

She grinned as she messily shook the cereal into her bowl. "Great! I'll be onto it and make sure we're ready," Kate said, relishing the idea of bossing her sister about. "It's going to be fun!"

Xx—

Jack leaned against Samantha's desk, a composed look on his face. He'd finished everything he'd needed to do in his office and felt accomplished.

"You like sitting there," Samantha remarked, signing off some sheets.

"I think I'm finally beginning to wear the varnish off after all this time."

Putting down her pen, Samantha leaned back in her seat and looked up at him. "So, you're going to get away early?" He'd mentioned his plans to the team that morning; it was now after lunch.

Jack nodded. "Olczyk just okayed it, as if he had any choice."

"He's good at those last minute requests."

"He is, isn't he…" he said with a small smile, knowing exactly what she meant. "The girls are happy and things have begun to calm down with them where you're concerned."

Samantha nearly breathed a sigh of relief. "That's sounding hopeful."

"Definitely. I've booked a nice B and B for us in the West Hamptons-"

Samantha feigned disappointment. "Oh, not 'our place'?"

Jack snorted. "As if I would ask Martin to ask his parents to ask their friends; that could be sticky…" He traced a small pattern with his index finger on the top of her desk. "It's not too far if you want to drop by..." It wasn't quite the voice version of puppy dog eyes, but it was pretty close.

There was a pause as Samantha thought a moment before withstanding him, voice and all. "Well, firstly, I shouldn't as the girls still won't like it all that much -even though you've spoken to them, and secondly, I owe everyone at least one weekend of being on call; this weekend's for Viv."

He gave her a smoldering gaze. "You know the offer's there," he said softly, in a voice full of promises.

"Thanks," Samantha squeaked; he really was good at making it difficult for her.

Vivian came in and gave Jack a look. "Are you leaving or are you lingering with intent?"

He tore his eyes away from Samantha and stood away from her desk, giving her the chance to breathe more normally. "Both, I guess."

Vivian made shooing actions with a folder. "You should get going, because the minute you do, we'll get a case."

"I know…"

"Scat -we can find them without you."

Jack spread his hands in a gesture of hopelessness. "I _know_, and it's a bad boss that thinks they're indispensable, so I'm out of here and see you Monday." He gave the ladies a smile and left the bull pen.

Samantha couldn't resist watching him saunter off; she felt she was entitled.

"Stop gawking, Samantha," Vivian muttered, sitting at her own desk, "you're being way too obvious."

Chastened, Samantha got back to her work.

Half an hour after he'd gone, Vivian was proved correct; a case, involving a high-end real estate agent, came in.

Putting the picture up on the whiteboard, she turned to the team. "Let's find this guy so his family –and we- can all have a decent weekend," she pointed out before assigning tasks.

She wasn't kidding, pushing the team to find the guy in one of his company's many listings –hiding from the pimp whose hookers the agent had been using- by Friday afternoon, which was a very good result for a rather questionable character.

Xx--

Alone in the office on Saturday morning, Samantha frowned at the sudoku puzzle she was working on and grudgingly admitted Jack was right: crosswords _were_ way more fun. After she had chewed the end off the pen in frustration and scribbled all over the puzzle in the newspaper, she gave up and leafed through the rest of the section. Then she rose and wandered around the quiet office. She'd finished her report, so really had no reason for staying around as she could be reached at home if she were needed. Still, there was nowhere else she'd rather be –aside from being with Jack. Finding her way back to her desk, she shifted things on her desk; the stone and shell were moved around a few times, her stationery things repositioned, things on her corkboard unpinned and put back up. Deciding she needed more pens, she opened her drawer to search and, having no luck, opened her handbag in case a few had wandered in there. She found three and an old bottle of emergency nail polish buried in a side pocket. It wasn't the color she was wearing now, but she stared at it a moment.

_Now__, there's an idea, and it'll kill two birds with one stone._

Just the excuse she needed.

She phoned Vivian. _Time for yet another favor._

Vivian wasn't one hundred percent happy over being asked to cover the calls for Samantha. "You're going to see Jack, aren't you?" she bluntly asked.

By now Samantha wasn't going to start inventing stories. "I need to see him about something."

"Okay," Vivian said, knowing she might as well give in. "For the afternoon then; tell them to patch anything through to me."

Samantha did a small punch in the air. "You're a star, Viv."

"Yes, yes," Vivian sighed, "Jack says the same when I help him out so I must be. Be good… and behave," she added, as an afterthought.

Xx--

Samantha stood in front of the apartment's door after Stevie's mother had buzzed her into the building. She could hear Stevie's voice as she walked to the door and pulled it open. "Come on, give it up!" Stevie didn't seem too fazed by her arrival. "Sorry, but Mom's had Neil Diamond stuck in that hot August night for too long," she supplied by way of explanation. She then frowned. "I don't know why you're here –Jack and the girls are away."

"I know, but I need to see Jack, and I don't exactly know where they are. I was wondering if you have the address of where they're staying."

"Ye-es -in case of any problems, if we needed to reach him about Frank. Why don't you just phone Jack and ask?"

"Because…" Samantha hesitated.

Because she wanted it to be a bit of a surprise, truthfully, and perhaps if Hanna –especially- got wind that she was coming, then it wouldn't be a good thing. "That's my own business."

Clearly not impressed or convinced, Stevie narrowed her eyes. "How do I know that you're not making all this up, because you're a stalking bunny-boiler and he's hiding from you?"

"Oh, you must be kidding-"

"Now, you'll have to excuse me, I have a bass riff from The Doors to listen to for my boyfriend," Stevie announced, reaching for her earphones, dangling down her t-shirt.

Samantha had had enough, she had places to go and things to do, and because she was used to dealing with obtuse suspects, she kept her voice low. "Look, you better tell me where they've gone, or so help me I'm going to check out how much of that music downloaded onto your iPod and PC is legit –despite what you told Jack."

"Yeah sure, you wouldn't," Stevie scoffed. "Big business doesn't care about any of that stuff anymore, not the little people." Despite her bravado, there was a note of uncertainty.

Which was just what Samantha needed as leverage; she came close enough until they were practically nose to nose, giving Stevie the full-force of her FBI glare. "Would you like to find out?"

Xx—

It was a large Victorian house, not directly by the beach but not too far from it. Parking on the roadside, Samantha walked up the driveway and knocked on the front door. Looking around, it couldn't have been more different from where she and Jack had stayed further up the coast.

A minute later, a short, round, elderly lady with a dust cloth answered, presuming Samantha wanted a room. After Samantha's enquiry if Jack was in, the lady –a Mrs. Marshall- said they'd all gone to the beach about an hour and a half before, and guessed that they were still there.

"Did they drive?" asked Samantha, hoping she wasn't pushing her luck with the kindly owner.

"Oh no, it's a short walk down on the right," Mrs. Marshall said, indicating with her hand. "Now it's the end of the season the beach isn't busy at all… Such a nice man, Mr. Malone, so sweet with his daughters, even though the elder one seems to be rather snippy at times -young children these days... You work with him, you say?"

_And__ much more besides._ "Yes, I have some urgent papers for him to sign," Samantha informed her, indicating her handbag, filling out her invented reason as Mrs. Marshall seemed the type that needed more information. Thanking her for her trouble, Samantha then went off to find the beach access, wishing the weather weren't turning; it was a shame that Jack's weekend away wasn't sunnier now fall was looming.

Locating the access about a hundred yards away down the road between two properties, Samantha headed along it, taking her shoes off to walk on the sandy grass as she got nearer to the beach.

Finding herself on a higher dune, she stopped and looked around. He was easy to spot, a solitary figure sitting in the sand not far to her left. Even from this distance she could see his rolled up pants, his feet dug in the sand, forearms resting on his knees. He was watching the girls build some vague sandcastle, just past the high tide mark about 20 yards away from him.

Taking a deep breath, sure of what she was doing, she walked towards him.

Xx—

It was a bit colder than Jack had thought it would be, but the girls didn't seem to mind. Thanks to Kate insisting that all shoes were to be left behind at the B and B, he found the sand wasn't keeping his feet as warm as he would have liked. Smiling to himself while watching his daughters, he wondered –not for the first time in the last quarter hour- when they would want to head back.

But there was something else also making him restless.

Something was definitely missing.

Or, more aptly, some_one_.

Samantha should have been here with them.

She should have been sharing his bed, waking up with him, helping gather the girls to have a nice breakfast together in what Mrs. Marshall quaintly called the front parlor.

They should be walking up the beach with their arms around each other –like they had before- while the girls threw sand at each other and ran around, collecting things.

It would have been nice.

_Ah well_.

_One day__ soon, maybe._

Lodged in the back of Jack's mind was the fact that it would have been sooner if he had dealt with the girls earlier, but it was too late for that now -what was done was done and that's how it had eventuated.

He wasn't sure what it was that made him turn his head, but he did and found Samantha about ten paces away behind him, cool and casual as anything with her bag slung over a shoulder and her shoes in one hand.

Not one to believe in mirages, he smiled at her, watching as she walked towards him. "What's this –Kenosha pay-back time?" he asked, getting up when she reached him and brushing the sand from his pants.

"I'm taking you up on your offer, but not for long –Viv's covering," she said, coming closer.

"It seems a shame since you drove all this way."

"I have something for the girls," and she held out two new bottles of nail polish. "I thought Hanna would like the black color."

"I would say so, and Kate will like the sparkly pink one for sure," he said, taking them. "That's very kind of you."

"And this is for you," Samantha said, putting something in his hand.

He looked at it and smiled. "Your key." The old liquid paper spots had been scraped off and new ones dotted on.

"My fiancé needs to be able to visit whenever he can –or wants."

He slipped it into his pants pocket. "I'll get one for you, too."

"No rush."

Jack looked over at the girls –they had noticed Samantha and were watching. Kate raised a hesitant hand in a wave while Hanna just stared, but not too vehemently. "We're getting there, and negotiations are still going well. I think I'll be able to come over more often." Especially now he had the key and _carte blanche_. He sidestepped so he could block the girls' view of Samantha and reached into his other pocket. "I do have something for you; it's a bit big for your finger…" He held out an O-shaped piece of shell that he'd found earlier, the broken opening of a hermit crab shell. "Will it do as a symbolic ring for a short while?"

Samantha beamed as she held it. "It will, and of course you know I am a sucker for shells." She could find some cord and wear it around her neck –however not like Jack used to with his old wedding ring. No, this would be quite different.

Casually reaching out, he curled a finger through one of Samantha's belt loops, tugging lightly. "I think kissing you is out of the question right now with the girls around…"

"And I should be getting back." She started making leaving motions.

He reluctantly unhooked his finger. "I'll come over this week," he said with certainty.

Walking backwards a few steps, she pointed at him with the hand not holding her shoes. "Yes, you definitely will."

He watched her for a few moments as she turned around and gave a last wave when she looked over her shoulder, before heading down to give the girls their gifts.

Forgetting the sandcastle, Kate squealed with excitement, wanting to paint her sandy toes right there and then, while Hanna gave a reluctant nod of approval. "She came all this way to give us these?"

Jack wasn't going to mention the key that was now burning a hole in his pocket. "Yes, as a matter of fact," he fibbed.

Another nod. "Impressive."

Jack was pleased; it was definitely a good start.

Xx—

_Monday, 5.17pm_

It had been a long day and Jack was over it all; he just wanted to get away and go home.

Despite his efforts at organising the girls the night before -after returning from the West Hamptons- they'd arrived for the first day of school by the skin of their teeth, then Jack had to go to the school office to sign some extra forms, check his contact details and make a payment for the fees and overpriced school-supplied stationery. He'd been late for work to find he had to go through the team's reports from the real estate agent's case, plus a dozen emails that had needed replying to. It had become worse when he found the coffee from the lunchroom tasted vile and the paper in his office printer jammed, and that had only been the morning. He'd poked his nose into the bull pen for a mere three minutes.

So much for a relaxing weekend away -this is what you get on your return.

He'd also barely grabbed some junk food from the vending machine for lunch, managing another quick hello to Samantha while he did so, before tying himself back to his desk.

Jack now picked up his ringing phone. It was Olczyk.

"Jack, could you come to my office in about…" he consulted someone, "say five minutes?"

"Of course –is something up?"

"The Director and I would like to speak to you about something." Olczyk was using a quiet yet officious tone.

"All right," said Jack, feeling a sinking feeling coming on. He didn't know Director Baines was in town, let alone in the building. "Do I need to bring anything with me?"

There was a pause. "No, just yourself."

"Five minutes then."

Jack stared at the phone a moment after Olczyk had hung up, then out to the bullpen. He could just make out Samantha's blonde head, conferring with Vivian. He decided to phone Vivian to inform her that he had a meeting and that they could all go home when they had finished up. Then he phoned Stevie to say he would probably be late, yet again.

Steeling himself as he knew in his gut that it was going be bad news about Samantha and himself, he went to the elevators. While waiting, he found his hands were clammy and that he was clenching his jaw.

_It was bound to come out. It'll be OPR kicking my ass __all over again and one of us will have to transfer._

_Damn._

_But, _he reasoned to himself,_ we had a good run. _

_Of sorts._

When he'd made it to Olczyk's door, he stopped and took a couple of deep breaths, and knocked before going in. Looking around the office, he saw a couple of other faces aside from Olczyk and Baines but one -aside from the HR guy he recognized- in particular made his heart sink by its expression and pallor alone.

_Oh__, damn._

Xx--

With the key to Samantha's apartment secure in his fingers he let himself in. "Sam?" he called out.

Samantha started, causing the water in the bath to slop and dampen some of her pinned up hair. It was after 8pm and she'd decided on a soak, not expecting any company on this particular night -even with Jack out there with a key of his own. "In here," she called back, wondering yet again what his meeting had been about.

A few moments later, the door opened an inch. "I can wait out here…" It was a lonely voice wanting company.

"No, it's fine, come in," she said, sitting up more. He hesitantly entered.

"Sorry," he started to apologise, "I'm disturbing you..."

"No, not at all -I'm just surprised, that's all. It's been so long since you were here."

He took in her bathroom like he had her room in Kenosha, as he moved some towels on her toilet seat to sit down. "I did say I'd be over this week… This is all seriously lacking in bubbles and candles."

"Well, it is just me, and I wanted to relax and read," she tipped her head towards the forgotten chick-lit paperback on the floor. His face was drawn and tired; she could tell he needed her. "Would you like to come in here with me?"

Without even thinking twice and working on automatic, Jack started to take his jacket off. "You don't mind?"

"Not at all." She hoped she hadn't sounded too desperate.

"You'd better get rid of some of that water first," he said, expertly pulling off his tie with one hand. As she did so, she watched him undress, enjoying the pseudo strip-teasing moment.

"You're staring," he said, haphazardly folding his clothes and placing them on the toilet seat, before pulling his shoes and socks off as she put the plug back in before all the water ran out.

"I know," she replied, waiting for the last and most important item of clothing. "Sue me."

He slowly peeled off his boxers, indulging her. "Okay, scoot forward."

Shaking her head firmly. "Nope, my bath, you're in front."

Being too tired and wrung out, he wasn't going to argue. He stepped into the bath and lowered himself to fit himself between her legs, then carefully leaning himself against her, he rested his head just below her shoulder. "Is that okay?" he asked, stretching his legs up the wall; the bath may have been wide enough, but it wasn't particularly long.

It wasn't all that comfortable but Samantha wasn't going to fuss as the situation was nice to be in. Her view of Jack's body was making it all worthwhile. "It's fine, just relax."

He sighed heavily as he closed his eyes. This was just what he needed, he just hadn't known it.

Scrunching up her face cloth, Samantha soaked it in the water, before gently wringing it out over Jack's shoulders. "Tough meeting?" she asked after a few moments of silence.

As the water trickled down his chest, Jack wanted to tell her, but he couldn't. Olczyk had given him strict, glaring instructions, just as they were all leaving:

"_There's a lot of paperwork involved, corners to cut and the __Director has a lot of strings to pull by tomorrow and people to step on. Keep it to yourself… and I mean _yourself_. So don't screw it up for everyone, okay?"_

"I can't say right now…" he said in a resigned tone as he wiped a dripping hand across his face. "Really, I can't." But the news wasn't all that bad when you looked at it, however it just wasn't totally what he wanted to happen.

"It's okay, I understand," she whispered, transferring her attentions to his hair, using the drenched cloth to wet it and smoothing it back. She wasn't sure what was going on but if Jack was this distracted then it would have to be something important. Putting the cloth to one side, she then gently stroked down Jack's upper arms with her hands, her cheek resting on his head.

"That's nice," he murmured, enjoying the calming attention as she moved her hands to his shoulders, feeling the tense day in him.

"Just relax," she repeated, as if he needed further instructions. "You know you never have to apologise for just dropping by."

"I suppose I'm just not used to it." Opening his eyes, he slowly raised a hand, watching the droplets fall from his fingers into the water.

"Not too long and we'll be living together, then you can have this whenever you like."

He lowered his hand back into the water. "Not too long at all…" he agreed, almost as a sigh. "Oh, that feels great," he said, as she found a knot in his neck to knead. Turning his head awkwardly for a damp kiss, Jack knew -as usual- that the day couldn't come soon enough when he wouldn't have to leave her alone to get home. "Soon, sweetheart, I promise."

But all good things must come to an end. It had been the girls first day back at school and he should have been home for their news. "Time to leave I think," Jack said reluctantly after a few more moments of unwinding. Un-stretching his legs, he slowly sat forward. "I really should get home."

_Damn__, that was too quick_. "This isn't one of my evenings?"

"Not tonight, not after my long, shitty day -this was just… dropping by," he pulled the plug and stood up so Samantha could get up and out of the tub easily.

Taking a towel from the pile and wrapping it around herself, she watched as Jack used his hands to slough the water off his legs, arms and chest.

He noticed her doing so; it was hard not to. "You really are into the cheap thrills tonight."

"Hey, a girl's got to get it when she can," she said, grabbing another towel and holding it out for him. "Come here."

He stretched for the towel but Samantha kept it out reach. "Sam, while I appreciate the handmaiden act, you really don't have to-"

"Shut up, I want to. Come here," she commanded. He stepped out of the bath onto the mat, holding his arms a little to either side as Samantha began to pat his chest, then arms dry. "Certain parts need to be tended to," she said, as she continued down to his stomach.

"Oh, really?" Jack found he was amused. "You know this, of course."

"Mm-hm," she said, maintaining their eye contact as her hands and towel went lower.

"You're being very…blatant," Jack gasped slightly as she reached his crotch, then he zeroed in for another kiss as she caressed and dried him at the same time.

"How long did you say you could stay?" Samantha whispered in his ear, before sinking to her knees, dropping the towel she held and any pretence with it.

Despite knowing he had to get home, Jack liked where this was heading. _Perhaps_ _the blood is better being away from my brain for awhile_. "Oh, I think I could stay for maybe 5 minutes…" he said as her mouth closed around the head of his cock, feeling her hands crawling up his thighs and around to grip his ass, her tongue working its magic. He lightly placed a hand on her head, the other on her shoulder, shutting his eyes. "Mmm, maybe ten…" Yes, perhaps this was what he _really _needed…

Samantha wasn't happy with these time limits at all, so she protested lightly.

Jack gasped again. "Ah, Sam, easy on the teeth…"

She managed to laugh, even with a mouthful.

Jack got the point as he opened his eyes to look down at her, liking what he saw –and felt. "Okay, I give in -make it half an hour."

Samantha made satisfied noises as she continued to lick and suck Jack into total hardness -and herself into slipperiness- before slowly pulling away. "That sounds better," she said, licking her lips as she got up and her own towel fell away. "Let's go make the most of the bed."

Xx—

_Tuesday._

Near eleven in the morning, Jack sat himself down at the bull pen table, where Vivian, Samantha and Martin were discussing things in general. "Don't mind me," he said, putting some papers down in front of him along with his phone. He'd been busy and this was the first time they'd seen him –it was becoming a habit.

"It's okay, not much happening here," Martin said, going back to his desk, as did Vivian to hers.

Samantha stayed, watching Jack as he checked his phone every minute, any of her own work ignored.

"What's up?" she finally asked, when she could no longer bear it.

His eyes met hers a moment. "Oh, nothing..." He could tell she wanted more. "Just expecting something." He'd just finished saying it when his phone beeped and he read the text.

_Right on time._

Satisfied, he put his phone in his pocket, and looked around. "Where's Danny?"

"He should be here in a moment." Vivian was starting to pay more attention, coming back over to sit next to Samantha, intrigued. "I remember that look, Jack; it's like the one you had when you announced you were going to Chicago." Her eyes were wary.

Samantha –and even Martin- shot Vivian a glance. _It couldn't be anything like that, could it?_

_And he was strangely distant last night…_

_At first._

Not wanting a similar comparison, Jack stayed in his chair with his hands flat in front of him, as a gesture that he had nothing to hide and was silently stone faced while they all waited for Danny, which wasn't long. Seeing everyone at the table when he arrived, Danny silently slid into a chair.

Ready, Jack began, "There are a couple of things. I had a meeting with Olczyk and the Director yesterday evening."

"Baines is in town?" asked Martin, typically.

"'Was' is the word; he's already gone back to DC. He was here because I'm being transferred."

There it was.

The news sank in.

"Permanently, this time?" Vivian couldn't resist a dig at him.

"That text was a heads-up -it's all finalized."

"Where to?" asked Danny, brows knitted.

"Only as far as downstairs… I'm taking over Edward Campbell's unit."

This was also greeted with stunned silence.

Jack continued, "It seems he gave up smoking too late, he's got lung cancer, so he's taking an early retirement," he paused letting them absorb this, especially Samantha, "and he wants to enjoy the time he's got left –you know how it is… I wish we'd worked together more often." Campbell had been a drinking and work buddy with Baines from way back; Jack hadn't known this until the meeting had progressed. No wonder the Director was jumping through hoops for his old friend.

Danny groaned. "Damn, I thought he was one of the indestructible ones."

"I think we all did. So I've accepted -starting immediately- his position in Organized Crime. There's no-one in his team experienced enough for the position. Viv," he said, looking at her, "the team's all yours, if you want it."

"I'd be lying if I said no." She couldn't help but throw a suspicious stare back at him. "You're not going to take it back again?"

"I don't think I'd dare –no, I promise," he said smiling. It had been an accepted thing at the meeting. The Director had wanted to rush everything through for a quick transition; Jack's suggestion for Vivian to be promoted was readily agreed upon.

"Then I'll take it –if that's okay with the young upstarts here." She gave Danny, Martin and Samantha all a well-meaning glare that said she'd like to see them dissent.

"It means the team is going to be short," Martin informed Jack. "I'd like to throw Kitagawa's name into the hat, he did well on the Kirshner Smith case," he paused, "although he seemed to be very formal with me." Danny suddenly found a fingernail to be interested in, to stop himself laughing out loud.

Jack just looked at Martin with a raised eyebrow.

As smooth as anything, Martin swivelled his head in Vivian's direction. "And that's just a suggestion… boss."

Vivian nodded at the save. "Duly noted, there should be a few interested but get him to throw his name into the hat."

Jack hadn't finished. He looked specifically at Samantha this time. "And there's one more thing..."

She'd been quiet throughout all of this, listening and watching, and now, as when he'd asked her to marry him before, her heart was beating crazily and her mouth was dry.

_Oh, wow__…_

"You won't be getting rid of me yet. As we know with Ed, life is too short, so I want you to know…"

She steadfastly held his gaze, knowing what was coming and thrilled it was going to be officially announced to their colleagues -and friends.

It was like the world had disappeared and all she could see was the man she cherished.

Vivian swore later that she knew what he was going to say, just by the expression on his face alone: sheer, pure love. So much for her saying he'd treated Samantha like garbage; she may never forgive herself for that one.

"Samantha and I are engaged," Jack said, elated he could finally say it out loud, before finally tearing his eyes away from her to include the team. "Sort of… I hope that's okay too."

A confused grin was spreading across Danny's face as he looked at each of them. "Sort of?"

Jack's eyes returned to Samantha's. She decided to say something, to show them it was all true and all right by her. "We are, we just have to figure out when and how to tell Jack's daughters."

"Oh, that will be easy," Danny joked, "-not."

While Vivian's smile was totally still unsurprised, Martin had concern etched on his features. Samantha noticed, but found she didn't care in the slightest as she watched her man get to his feet. "I'm going to take my almost-fiancée out for a long lunch," Jack informed them, "a couple of hours -if there are no objections?" As if he was expecting any; he'd already told Campbell to tell his team to expect him much later.

Grabbing her bag from her desk, Samantha's mind was abuzz with dying to know where they were going; she hoped it might involve something like lunch at Tiffany's.

As they put their arms around each other and walked out -a statement to everyone on the floor- Samantha couldn't help but smile. "So that's why you were a bit subdued last night."

"Yeah, I'm sorry, it was all too much at once, and I couldn't say a thing," Jack apologized, looking into his soon-to-be-former office as they passed.

_Life certainly can play with you_, he reflected, knowing he would be clearing his desk out again later that day.

Maria was dead. Ed Campbell had cancer. One had allowed Jack and Samantha to finally be together; the other had made their professional lives workable. He wasn't comfortable thinking that the misfortunes of others had contributed to his happiness, but he knew he wasn't culpable –certainly not with Ed and as for Maria, he'd stopped beating himself up for that: today was truly the day of a fresh start with Samantha. He tightened his arm around her to reassure himself.

"So, where are we going?" Samantha asked, unable to contain her excitement, as they stood like a real couple waiting for the elevator. "Shopping? A restaurant? … A travel agency?" She was worried she may have jumped the gun with the last one; the honeymoon would be some way off.

Jack gave a lop-sided smile; she just couldn't help herself. "Some place you know quite well," he said mysteriously, as the elevator doors opened for them.

Xx--

Danny's grin subsided as he watched Jack and Samantha leave together.

"What's up?" Vivian enquired, delighted for the official couple and totally over the moon over her promotion.

Turning back to Viv, Danny's face was now serious. "I'm going take a few minutes myself; I think I need to talk to Elena about something."

Martin's face was a study of disbelief. "What –you too?"

"It could be; it's definitely on the cards," Danny said, getting up. "I'll use the phone in Jack's office," he said as he left the bull pen.

Martin sat looking towards Jack's office, then turned to look at Samantha's desk, suddenly wishing he still had a pill or two handy. "Am I _always_ the last to know?" he said to the world at large, but directed more at Vivian.

As she was getting out her cell phone to call Marcus with her news, Vivian cast him a withering look. _Enough is enough_. "Oh, just give it a rest, Martin. Remember you're not the only one that likes to keep things secret around here. Get over yourself."

It shut him up nicely.

Xx—

Blonde hair.

Cascading around his face as she kissed him, nibbled him, teased him.

Long tresses brushing against his skin, every strand a small stroke of pleasure and torment.

Samantha stopped kissing Jack's face to look at him. "What?"

He smiled, self-conscious. "Oh, this is just like a dream I had once."

"Really?"

"A wet dream, actually," he admitted, his hands sliding down her back, pulling her hips down against him more.

"With a happy ending?"

"And very messy," he confessed. "Come on, time's running out." He was rigid and ready as he lifted his head to meet hers for a kiss.

She resisted, pulling back her head. "I'm _not_ happy at keeping to a timetable."

"Well, if you keep talking…" His hand squeezed her butt in emphasis.

"And this isn't what I was expecting for lunch."

He'd been anticipating this. "I think it's the perfect two hour lunch. Look… half an hour here to your place, half an hour back –allowing for traffic; 15 minutes for showering and dressing; 15 minutes for a quick bite to eat before work -and half an hour for sex."

She even made a sulk look lovely. "It's as bad as it was last night."

More squeezing from him. "That was _not_ bad -thanks to you- and neither is this."

"Can we have longer? Please?" _It's okay for men, but women need time._

Unable to ignore such a plaintive request and understanding the reasoning, Jack reached out an arm to get his phone from her bed stand and hit speed dial.

"Viv? We're going to be a bit longer. The restaurant's busier than we thought-" He swallowed as Samantha specifically chose that moment to nibble on his nipple. "See you when we see you," he finished, allowing no comeback from Vivian as Samantha sat up. "So make that about an hour for us in bed, happy?" he asked, putting away the phone.

Lunchtime sex during work time was certainly an excellent idea but he doubted they'd be able to do it too often.

Still, today was a special day.

Grinding herself against his hardness, Samantha was indeed pleased. "Mmmmm, nice move…" She looked down at him, loving him and now he was all hers.

_How wonderful._

He reached up to cup her breasts, thumbs brushing firmly across her nipples. "And I've got a few more nice moves that I'm happy to show you…"

"Then we'd better not waste any more precious time," she said, positioning herself to slide down him.

After a loud groan of relief as she did so, Jack pulled himself upright, holding her tightly to him, kissing her, their tongues and bodies perfectly immersed in each other.

"God Sam, I'm so happy everything's worked out after all this time," he whispered as they started to slowly move together.

"It's really all going to happen with us this time, isn't it?" she managed, enjoying the feel of his skin rubbing against hers.

Sweeping back a loose tress of hair, he kissed her neck. "It really is."

Framing his face gently with her hands, she looked deeply into his hazel eyes. "Jack, always believe me when I say I love you, don't ever doubt it."

How could he -when he was inside her, she was surrounding him and her eyes were mirroring the love in his own. "I'll never do that, Sam -I love you and I always, always will."

Because…

That's what you say.

And that's what you do.

Xx--

The End

Xx--


End file.
